The courthouse looked smaller than Lynda expected. For weeks, it had loomed in her mind like a towering monument, cold, vast, and unforgiving. But standing across the street that morning, she realized it was just another stone-and-glass building, busy with people who had their own problems, their own wars. Even so, her hands did not shake. She straightened her jacket sleeve and caught her reflection in the car window. Calm. Put-together. Hard to read. The woman staring back at her was not the ...