Chapter 4

My brain was a chaotic blur.

"Mrs. Evans, regarding the evidence and testimony presented, do you have anything to say?" the judge's stern voice boomed through the courtroom.

I opened my mouth, but not a single sound came out.

I turned toward the first row of the gallery, staring at Brandon and Chloe, putting every ounce of my remaining strength into a silent cry for help.

They were my children. They had to have a way out!

They were just trying to scare me into humbling myself. They wouldn't actually let me go to prison, right?

Yet Brandon only stared back at me with dead, chilly eyes. His look seemed to say:

*You brought this on yourself.*

Chloe completely avoided my gaze, her head down, her fingers violently twisting the hem of her blouse.

They were really abandoning me.

"Mrs. Evans?" the judge prompted again, a trace of annoyance in his tone.

I stared at the judge's stern face, then at the disgusted expressions all around the room.

And then at my two children—the ones I had raised with every drop of my blood—now looking as cold as marble statues.

Snap.

The final string holding my sanity together snapped in half.

All the noise and hostility faded away. The courtroom blurred, melting into a sunlit classroom I knew so well.

Gripping the railing of the defense stand like the wooden edge of a podium, I straightened my back, a warm, gentle smile spreading across my face.

"Settle down, class. Quiet, please."

The words slipped out clearly and loudly.

The room went dead silent.

A beat later, the gallery erupted.

"Is she insane?"

"Oh my God, she's faking crazy to get out of it!"

The judge banged his gavel furiously. "Order! Order in the court!"

I looked at the crowd below, seeing only my lovely, mischievous students.

Thirty years. I had taught for thirty years. This was where I belonged.

"Defendant!" the judge frowned, barking sharply.

"Young man, please take your seat," I said, pointing at the judge with a warm, maternal smile.

Brandon shot out of his seat, his face flushed with mortification and fury.

"Your Honor! My mother is trying to evade sentencing! She's faking it!"

Faking it? Mother?

I looked at him in total confusion.

Why was this handsome young man calling me his mother?

"Who are you?" I asked him earnestly.

Brandon's face drained of all color in an instant. "Mom, stop acting! Please!"

"I don't know who you are," I said, shaking my head firmly.

Chloe bolted out of her seat too, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Mom, just admit you're wrong and we'll take you home! Stop doing this, you're terrifying me!"

Home? Why would I go home with these strangers?

"Who are you people? Why are you calling me Mom?"

I shrank back into my chair, terrified. "I want to go home. My students are waiting for me to start class."

Brandon lost his temper completely, rushing past the gate toward me to grab my arm. "How long are you going to keep up this damn performance?!"

"Step back!"

A thunderous roar shattered the room.

Mark shoved his way past the officers, pushed Brandon back, and shielded me with his body.

His voice shook violently with rage and anguish. "She isn't performing!"