“He wasn’t in the waiting hallway when I walked into this building at ten minutes to nine,” Judge Norris said quietly.

“I found him standing alone by the basement vending machines, holding his stuffed rabbit.”

Julian’s lawyer stopped reaching for his briefcase, his arm frozen in midair above his leather folder.

The heavy oak doors at the back of the courtroom creaked open on their iron hinges.

A tall deputy guided Leo down the carpeted center aisle toward the wooden bar separating the gallery from the counsel tables.

Leo clutched his worn stuffed rabbit tight against his chest, his small fingers buried deep in its yellow yarn.