Too Late to Win Me Back, Mr. Billionaire novel · Chapter 27 of 32

Chapter 27: Open Court

Kit rewrote her statement over and over.

She wrote it at the kitchen table on Tern Lane, and in the hangar kitchen.

She wrote it once in the back of the Hen on the mail run, on a parcel slip.

She wouldn't let me read any of them.

"It's mine," she said. "You'll hear it when the judge does."

"What if it's terrible?"

"Then it's mine and it's terrible."

On the morning of December eighteenth I flew us to Boston in the Hen.

Sawyer in the right seat.

Kit behind us in a navy coat Sawyer's grandmother had taken in at the shoulders, with her eleventh draft folded in her pocket.

Sawyer's grandmother had come too. She said someone had to keep an eye on the three of us in the city.

She sat beside Kit with her purse in her lap and looked out at the clouds.

The courthouse was a gray stone box near the harbor.

Courtroom nine was on the sixth floor, with wood paneling and a clock that ticked too loud.

It was fuller than I'd expected.

Reporters in the back two rows.

A sketch artist with a pad.

People from the hospital I half recognized, nurses, a man from the records office.

The transplant coordinator, in her cardigan, in the third row.

She saw Kit and gave her a small wave.

Pierce was there, alone, on the aisle near the back. He nodded to me once and didn't come over.

Constance was not.

Kenzie came in through a side door with her lawyer.

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