“That’s why I’m here.”
And with that, she placed a battered cardboard folder — decorated with childish doodles and faded marker hearts — onto the polished defense table.
Inside it was the beginning of the end.
Chapter Two: What the School Tried to Bury
The silence that followed was not gentle; it was oppressive, thick with discomfort, the kind that makes even seasoned professionals shift in their seats, and for the first time that morning, Judge Branham leaned forward, curiosity replacing irritation.
“Proceed,” he said.
Ava did not look at the audience, or at the lawyers who towered over her; she looked at her mother, whose eyes glistened with terror and pride in equal measure, and drew a slow breath.
“Three months ago,” Ava began, reading from notes written in careful block letters, “my mom was fired from Crestwood Preparatory after seven years of employment. The termination letter said she was ‘unprofessional’ and ‘failed to follow sanitation protocol.’”
Richard Latham stood immediately.
“Objection. This is hearsay and theatrical nonsense.”
