417 Victory in the Court Room

The fluorescent lights of the courtroom buzzed like angry wasps, casting harsh shadows that danced across the worn wooden benches. Lucas fidgeted his reflection on the polished surface of the defense table, showing a man haunted by ghosts of his past. Opposite him stood Judge Thompson, a woman with a mane of silver hair pulled back in a tight bun, her face etched with an air of weary authority. Her sharp and assessing gaze pinned Lucas to his seat before she addressed him in a voice that brooked no argument. "Mr. Davis," she said, her tone leaving no room for debate, "we are gathered today to hear the case against you. Do you understand the charges?" Lucas swallowed hard; his throat suddenly dried. "Yes, Your Honor," he mumbled, his voice barely audible over the hum of the lights. Across the aisle, Assistant District Attorney Evan, a youthful shark in a crisp suit, leaned back in his chair, a predatory grin stretching across his face. His perfectly coiffed pompadour seemed to mock