The judge's voice breaks through the courtroom's suffocating silence, each word landing like a physical weight against my skin. "On the count of human trafficking, the jury finds the defendant, Cassandra Moore, guilty." The word reverberates through the wooden benches, through the marble floors, through the collective intake of breath from the gallery behind me. Guilty. A simple word that can't possibly contain the six years of darkness, of pain, of systematic destruction she orchestrated. ...