I Woke Up at the Altar and Said No to the Mob Heir Who Let Me Die, but He Remembers Too novel · Chapter 38 of 40

Chapter 38: Fitting Room

"What's chambers?" Nessa asked at breakfast.

"It's the judge's office."

"Do I have to go by myself?"

"I'll ask if we can sit in the corner."

"Not talking?"

"Not talking."

She ate her cereal and considered this.

"Uncle Cormac can't talk either. He talks in his face."

The family court in Portsmouth was a brick building by the river with a flag out front and geraniums in a box.

Nessa wore her party dress and her red backpack with the tugboat. The rabbit was inside it with its head out, so it could see.

The judge was a woman in her sixties with short white hair and reading glasses on a cord.

She came out into the hall herself to meet Nessa.

"You must be Nessa."

"I'm five and three-quarters."

"I'm sixty-three and a half," the judge said gravely. "Would you come and talk to me in my office?"

Nessa looked at me.

"Can Orla and Uncle Cormac come? In the corner? They won't talk. They promised."

The judge looked at us over her glasses.

"In the corner," she said. "Silent as mice."

Her office had a big desk, a window on the river and a bowl of hard candy.

We sat in two chairs by the door with our hands in our laps.

Nessa sat in a big leather chair across from the judge with her feet sticking straight out.

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