The rain-splattered windows cast speckled shadows across the wooden floorboards. Max nursed her third stout of the night gloomily, despite her win at court that morning. Was the lenient judge the reason for her success? Or her own proficiency? 'Twas indiscernible to her; as she'd inherited both the Judge's name and legacy.
Dad can cook me my favourite meal. Mom can make me laugh until there’s snot coming out my nose. Why are they making me stand up here within this mahogany prison? Trying to establish whom I can’t do without more? When all I want is the warm snuggle between them at night.