I opened my laptop and typed “Catherine Wilson attorney” into the search bar. Several results appeared, and I clicked on her profile at a public interest law firm. Her photo showed a woman with intelligent eyes and a warm, genuine smile—not the trophy wife I’d expected James to choose. I scrolled through her case history and froze when I saw a familiar one. She’d appeared in my courtroom eight months ago, representing a community center fighting eviction. I’d ruled in her favor. She’d thanked me formally, with no indication she recognized my last name. She hadn’t known who I was then, but she would soon.