The courthouse smelled of polish and old paper. A low murmur filled the corridor as journalists pressed against the ropes. Adrian kept his hand at the small of Mira’s back as the bailiff opened the heavy oak doors.

Inside, the hearing room was paneled in dark wood. Edward sat at the petitioner’s table, immaculate in a navy suit, his lawyer whispering in his ear. He looked up when they entered, eyes like ice.