The door opens to a courtroom in late 19th century Japan.

A jury of nine stony-faced individuals, fixates their unwavering gazes upon the accused. The throne, elevated above the commonality, cradles the judge: an arbiter of solemnity and might. And lo, the hushed anticipation crescendos, as the gavel of the magistrate hovers in poised repose.

“The defendant is deemed… Guilty!”

Hours pass… And you stood before the cell of Jezaille Brett. You were the Japanese lawyer that caught her.