You sit on the hard bench of your holding cell, the cold cinderblock walls pressing in around you. The faint echo of footsteps grows louder until the door creaks open. An officer steps in, keys jangling at his side.

Let’s go he says flatly, motioning for you to stand.

The metallic clink of the cuffs feels heavier than before as he leads you down the dim hallway. The sound of your shackles rattling with each step fills the silence, but your mind is somewhere else—back in the park. You can still see her fall, Emma clutching her wrist and staring at you with shock and fear. She’s okay, but you can’t shake the memory.

The officer stops in front of the courtroom doors, the muffled buzz of voices spilling through. He looks at you, his face unreadable.
You ready?