Page 72 of Now Their Starlet

It makes me look like a party girl, hooked on substances, even though I’ve never touched anything harder than weed.

I want to throw up.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper to Charles, the kind lawyer Everett has provided for me.

I can’t stop my hands from trembling, so I keep them clasped in my lap and out of view under the table. But Charles notices.

“No need for you to apologize, Miss Andi. The opposing counsel is demonstrating a masterclass of manipulation,” he murmurs.

“This is why you said I should prepare for the conservatorship not to be dismissed, right?” I finally drag my gaze up and away from the woodgrains on the surface of the table.

“Yes, it is. But you will not be returning to your mother’s home today, Andi. That I can promise you. That, we can all promise you, really,” he says, subtly tilting his head towards the seats directly behind us.

With me looking at Charles, my head is slightly turned, giving me a view of the guys out of my peripheral vision.

They all came dressed to the nines. If this were any other situation, I’d appreciate the sight of them in full tailored suits.

I take a deep, steadying breath, and I pick up the hint of Beck’s sweet burnt caramel perfume. It’s the strongest out of all the guys’ scents, probably because he has the least experience holding it back.

Even though it carries the slight bitter hint of his anxiety, the sweetness of his scent still washes over me like a calming balm.

Bolstered by the presence of my guys, I finally build the courage to turn towards my father’s table. He’s seated to my right with his lawyer. When he catches my gaze, he offers a soft, comforting smile that makes my eyes widen ever so slightly in shock.

Despite my best attempts to control my expression, my chin still wobbles, even though I clamp my jaw shut as hard as I possibly can.

“Do you—do you think my dad—hates me?” I whisper, averting my eyes back down to the table.

“No,” Charles says with a shake of his head. “I’ve spent a decent bit of time with your father over the past month. Even more time with his own council. Did you know that Daniel worked with your father on the custody case that occurred when you were a minor?”

“I—I didn’t,” I say with a small shake of my head.

“Well, he did.” Charles gaze cuts meaningfully towards Gina. “Both your father and his counsel are well aware of the tricks your mother will go through to try to control a narrative. Even within the context of a courtroom.”

“O—oh,” I whisper, letting out a shaky exhale. More videos are still playing, but I’ve gotten better at tuning out the sound of me freaking the hell out. “Okay. I’m glad.”

The last video ends, and silence fills the courtroom, thick and suffocating.

“We would like to call our client, Gina Sterling to the stand,” Collin, Gina’s lead attorney says.

I keep my eyes locked on the table as Gina steps up to the witness stand to be sworn in.

“Please raise your right hand,” the bailiff says. “Do you solemnly swear or affirm that the testimony you are about to give in this matter shall be the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?”

“I do,” Gina says.

Yeah, right.

I’m sure Gina will lie straight through her teeth. I wonder whether there’s a punishment for that sort of thing?

“Ms. Sterling, could you please explain to us what happened on June 26th?”

“Yes, of course.” Gina’s voice carries a breathy sort of tremble. Looks like she’s ramping up the caring mother act. “I invited my daughter over to brunch. They’re a regular tradition of ours and she hadn’t come home in a while, likely a symptom of her declining mental health. When she arrived, I tried to be accommodating to her irate mood, but it grew too difficult for even me to manage, and she ended up pushing me down the stairs.”

“Did you sustain injuries from that fall?”

“Yes, bruised ribs and a sprained wrist. Luckily nothing serious, but—” she buries her face in her hands. “The part that hurts is knowing how I failed her. That I let things get to this state in the first place.”

“Do you love your daughter?”