106_No Bail

Jennifer’s POV

The bench under me feels harder than usual, as though the grain of the wood itself is pressing judgment into my spine. I keep my chin high, though my palms are damp where they rest against the smooth tabletop. My lawyer sits to my right, his briefcase open, a neat stack of papers angled toward him, a single pen poised like a weapon.

The air in the courtroom is thick, as if everyone is holding their breath in the same stale pool. There’s that faint, biting scent of ...