Chapter 1

The rain-soaked streets of Seattle glimmered like a canvas of dark jewels as I stepped out of my office, locking the door behind me. A chill ran down my spine, but it wasn't the autumn breeze that caused it. It was the weight of the day's work still lingering in my mind. I had just finished a grueling meeting with a prosecutor who was determined to put my latest client behind bars. I lit a cigarette, taking a long drag as I gazed up at the gray sky.

Just as I was about to head home, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out, and my assistant's voice filled my ear. "Caden, I know you're off the clock, but I've got a walk-in client who insists on seeing you. Says it's urgent."

I sighed, exhaling a plume of smoke. "Who is it?"

"Name's Miguel Turner. He's been accused of murder."

"He's here now," she said quietly. "And, Caden, he's just a kid. University student, looks like he's barely out of his teens."

I pinched the bridge of my nose, feeling the fatigue creeping in. "Fine, send him in."

I flicked my cigarette into the gutter and headed back to my office, bracing myself for the long night ahead.

As I opened the door, a young man stood up from the waiting room chair, his eyes fixed on mine. He was slender, with tousled brown hair and a bruise on his cheekbone. His eyes, though – they were the part that struck me. They were pools of deep, dark blue, like the night sky just before the stars come out.

"Miguel Turner," I said, extending my hand.

He took it, his grip firm but hesitant. "Mr. Gray."

I gestured for him to follow me into my office. As we sat down, I couldn't help but notice the way he fidgeted with his hands, the way his eyes darted around the room.

"So, Caden, tell me about the murder you're accused of."

He swallowed hard, and for a moment, I thought he might bolt. But then he took a deep breath, and the words spilled out like a confession. "I didn't do it, Mr. Gray. I swear. I was just...I was in the wrong place at the wrong time."

I leaned back in my chair, my eyes never leaving his. "Let's start from the beginning. What happened?"

I strode over, my briefcase swinging at my side. "Miguel Turner?" I asked, my voice firm but gentle.

He dropped his hands, revealing eyes red-rimmed from exhaustion or tears – or both. He looked up at me, and for a moment, our gazes locked. Fear swam in those dark blue depths, and something else... something that made me want to pull up a chair and ask what the hell was going on.

"Mr. Gray," he whispered, his voice cracking.

I nodded and turned to the officer. "I'm Caden Gray, Miguel's lawyer. Can we have a moment?"

The officer nodded and stepped aside, eyeing me warily. I took his place, sitting down beside him. "Okay, Miguel. Tell me what's happening."

He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing. "I...I was bullied, Mr. Gray. By...by Jake. He made my life hell. He'd fight me in front of the whole class, push me around in the hallways...I just wanted it to stop."

I nodded, my pen scratching against the notebook. "And what happened on that day?"

his eyes dropped, and his voice barely rose above a whisper. "He...Jake cornered me on the terrace.

The words hung in the air like a challenge. I studied Miguel's face, searching for...what? Guilt? Fear? Relief? His eyes were dry, but his skin was clammy, and his hands were shaking like leaves.

"Did you mean to push him?" I asked, my voice firm but gentle.

I leaned back in my chair, processing the statement. Self-defense? Manslaughter? The DA would have a field day with this.

"It wasn't just me, Mr. Gray! There were others, they were fighting too! I wasn't the one who pushed Jake, I swear! We were all scaring each other, and...and he fell."

He gulped, his gaze darting around the room like he was searching for an escape route. "We were on the terrace, me and Jake, and some others. We were arguing, things got heated...people were pushing and shoving...I

My pen hovered over the notebook, trying to keep up with his words. "Who else was there?"

He hesitated, his eyes flicking to mine before looking away. "People from our class. Max, Liam, Emily...they were all there."

I made a mental note to track them down. "And what did they see?"

Miguel's voice dropped to a whisper. "I don't know. I ran, Mr. Gray. I was scared."

"did you see who pushed Jake?" I asked, my voice firm but gentle.

He shook his head, his eyes welling up. "No...I didn't see. But it wasn't just me, Mr. Gray. It wasn't just me."

The panic in his voice was contagious, and I felt a thread of unease. What had really happened on that terrace?

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