The courtroom had already begun to murmur before you even sat down.
People were leaning forward in their seats, trying to understand what they were seeing, because a woman who had entered the courthouse in a plain gray dress had disappeared behind the chambers door and returned in a black judicial robe.
The scrape of chairs and the whisper of suit jackets blended with a low breath of shock that rolled through the gallery, and all of it gathered into one electric silence that made the room feel smaller than it truly was.
Across from me, Daniel Crosswell looked as if someone had pulled the floor out from under him.
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