With careful precision, he leans down to blow loose bits of chalky graphite off the thin printer paper before straightening up and readjusting the clipboard. Stringer glances back up to the melodrama of the courtroom, eyes narrowing in a brief moment of focus, before returning to his doodles.

The bench creaks with the weight of a new visitor. He bites down a smile and pushes up the perfectly-tailored sleeve of his suit to check the time.

“You’re late,” he muses.