For a moment, it seemed as though everyone present had forgotten to breathe.
All eyes turned toward a tiny figure moving forward: a five-year-old girl, her brown hair messy, clearly not brushed for hours.
Her small shoes squeaked against the perfectly polished floor, contrasting with the solemn atmosphere.
The worn dress she wore hung loosely on her frail body, clearly two sizes too big for her.
Judge Catherine Westbrook sat elevated behind the imposing desk, her body confined to the wheelchair that had been her prison for three years.
Her hands gripped the armrests, knuckles white from the pressure against the black leather.
In twenty years on the bench, Catherine had witnessed the full spectrum of human misery and deception, but never had she seen a child so young approach the judge during a serious criminal trial.
The little girl stopped, looked up, and her sparkling green eyes seemed to hold an almost supernatural intensity.
