**An Unexpected Turn**
Your Honour, I withdraw my claim for financial compensation, Thomas said quietly. A murmur of confusion rippled through the courtroom.
The judge, accustomed to most things, raised an eyebrow. Mr. Hartley, you understand this decision wont affect the verdict but means you forfeit any reimbursement?
I do.
Katherineknown professionally as Miss Whitmore by her colleagues despite her youthcontinued typing without a flicker of emotion. Five years in this job had hardened her to human folly. She saw herself as a train conductor, endlessly shuttling carriages of others dramas.
The case against Lydia C. was the kind the press loved. Another fraudster, preying on lonely hearts through dating sites. Four mennone of whom had ever met herhad sent large sums to her account. Not one made it to a first date. One was told her family had been in a car crash, another that her ex was taking everything, even the cutlery, and a third spun some tale about a sick child.
*Whats new?* Katherine thought dryly as she prepared the files. Four grown men, seemingly successful, had played the knight in shining armour, believing money could buy them love. All while corresponding with a married mother of three.
Now they were herethe defendant and the plaintiffs. Three of them sat stiff with bitterness, demanding restitution, their speeches laced with venom. They werent wrong. The law was on their side. Katherine mechanically noted the usual phrases: *emotional distress, fraudulent misrepresentation, financial intent.*
Thomas Hartley sat slightly apart. There was no anger in his posture, no self-pity. When he waived his claim, the room fell silent. One of the other men spun around, incredulous.
Have you lost your mind? She played you like the rest of us! That money probably bought her husband a new phone!
Thomas looked at him with quiet sadness. I understand. But she has three children. Let the money go to them. I dont need it back.
Katherines fingers stilled. Generosity was rare in these walls. She studied his handsrough from welding work, clasped calmly on his kneesand his eyes, weary but free of spite. In a world where everyone fought for scraps, he simply let go.
After the hearing, a defence lawyer shook his head. That fourth ones a proper romantic. Naïve as a lamb.
Usually silent, Katherine surprised even herself by replying, Its not naivety. Its strength. The kind no money can buy.
The room fell quiet. No one had ever heard iron Kate speak like that.
Over the next few sessions, she caught herself watching himhow he listened without interrupting, how his gaze sometimes lingered on the window as if searching the grey sky for answers only he cared to ask.
On the final day, as the verdict was read and the room emptied, Thomas lingered in the corridor, looking lost. Katherine stepped out.
Which way are you headed? she asked, her usual brisk tone intact.
Ahjust got turned around in these hallways, he admitted with a sheepish smile.
Exits that way. She nodded.
Ta.
He took a few steps before she called after him. Thomas?
He turned, surprised.
You were right, she said, her voice softer now. About the children. That was decent of you.
He studied her a moment. You know, Katherine He hesitated, unsure how to address her.
Kate, she offered.
Kate. Kindness is rare enough anywhere. Thank you for noticing.
He left. She watched him go, realising with a quiet shock that her long-dormant heart had quickened its pace.
Then came the rain. A downpour, just as Thomas stepped outside. He paused under the awning, debating whether to dash for the bus stop.
A voice spoke behind him. Weve a government-issue umbrella here. Meant for documents, but I reckon itll do for a decent bloke.
It was Kate, holding a black umbrella, her expression unreadable.
Dont let me keep you, he said.
My shifts over. Im walking to the park. If youre going that way
They walked side by side beneath the umbrella, careful not to touch. The silence between them was oddly comfortable.
You always this protective? Thomas finally asked.
No. Never, Kate admitted. Youre the first who chose kindness over logic. It surprised me.
Suppose that makes me a fool.
It makes you rare. And rare things matter.
They reached the park. The rain had eased to a drizzle.
Fancy a stroll? Thomas asked. If youve time.
Kate hesitated only a second. *Protocol breached, Miss Whitmore*, she thought wryly, but nodded. Thomas gazed at the clearing sky while she waited, giving him space.
This doesnt happen to me, he said suddenly, and it wasnt about the scam. Most people think Im odd.
Because you didnt turn bitter, Kate murmured. These days, thats practically eccentric.
He met her eyes. And you? Dyou think Im odd?
I think youre real. Thats worth something. In my line of work, real is in short supply.
He was quiet before asking, Want to know why? Why I fell for it?
She nodded.
Thomas exhaled, his gaze distant. Then he began, calm and measured, as if recounting someone elses story.
It startedand endedat school. Her name was Lily. What I felt for her wasnt just love. She was everything bright and untouchable. We were *that* couplethe one people pointed at. I carried her books, danced with her at prom I was sure itd last forever. So sure, I think I convinced everyone else too. We were the golden pair.
His voice tightened. Then she left. Went to uni in London, married a classmate. Sent me a postcard. Imagine? Not even a proper letter. Just *Sorry. Its better this way.*
He shrugged. Everything felt hollow after that. Didnt drink, didnt rage. Just stopped feeling. Became a weldergood job if you want to hide behind a mask and noise. Built walls around my heart, but inside, I was still that daft kid who believed in one great love.
His jaw set. Then I saw *her* profile. The con artist. She looked like Lily. And her bio*Still believe in love.* Pathetic, right? But I messaged her. And she wrote back all the things Id wanted to hear. About forever, loyalty, finding something real. It wasnt *her* I wanted. It was proof that what Id felt wasnt stupid. That it could exist.
A bitter smile. Funny thing? This trial didnt punish me. It freed me. Seeing her in courtjust a scared, pitiful womanshattered the illusion. Lilys ghost finally let go. That money? Felt like payment for an exorcism. Pricey, but effective.
He fell silent, waiting for her judgmenta verdict on his foolishness. Instead, Kate reached over and covered his hand with hers. Hers was warm, steady.
Thank you for telling me, she said softly. Now I understand. Youre not odd. Youre just true to yourself.
***
No one at work called her Kate. She was *Miss Whitmore*stern, silent, meticulous. All business, no personal life. So when colleagues spotted her with Thomas more than oncehim waiting for her after hourseyebrows were raised.
Judge Margaret Holloway, a woman whose glare could silence a courtroom, was the first to comment. Well, Miss Whitmores full of surprises. Thought she had a filing cabinet for a heart. Now lookromancing the noble plaintiff.
Her colleague, Judge Edwin Carter, smirked. With his naivety, hes more like a permanent victim under excessive gullibility. Reckon shes reforming him?
Edwin, spare us the cynicism, Margaret chided, though her lips twitched. Mans hardworking, hands like a craftsman. And what he did? Uncommon. Principles over pounds.
In the staff room, a regular solicitor, Daniel, spread his hands. Didnt have *courtroom romance* on my bingo card. Proper soap opera, this.
Kate hadnt softenednot professionally. But sometimes, shed glance at her phone with a faint smile. A delicate silver chain appeared around her neck, one shed never worn before.
Behind her back, the office divided. The men joked darkly about saving daft knights, while the younger women sighed. Its like something out of a book! Her so stern, him so kind and handsome
The head clerk, Maureen, scowled. Oh, pack it in. Most of us forgot what real feeling looks like. A good-hearted mans rarer than sense in this place. Let the lass be happy.
One morning, Edwin couldnt resist. Miss Whitmore, hows your ah, *gallant saviour*? Filed any more claims out of the goodness of his heart?
The room held its breath.
Kate sipped her tea, set it down, and levelled him with a look. Judge Carter, if youre so interested in closed-case plaintiffs, I can grant full archive access. Fancy reviewing Case 3-452/18? Or perhaps 2-187/19? Both featured *colourful* characters.
Dead silence. Edwin choked on his coffee. He knew*she* had processed his cases too, and the details she could reference were inconvenient.
Nono, Katherine, I only meant
How kind of you to ask, she said sweetly. But my personal life isnt *sub judice*. Yet.
The open teasing stopped after that. Even the sceptics watched with grudging curiosity. The final nail came the morning Thomas dropped her off in his modest but tidy car. He stepped out to open her door, and before leaving, simply adjusted the collar of her coat. A small gesture, but so tender that anyone watching from the windows knewthis was real.
That day, Margaret pulled her aside. Kate hes good. It shows. Hold onto that.
No protocol, no objections. Just a quiet nod.
I know, Margaret. Thank you.
The gossip faded. Colleagues understood: their unflappable Miss Whitmore, keeper of order and records, had passed her own verdict*Pardoned. To love. To be happy.* And thered be no appeal.
