Michael set his heavy leather briefcase on the petitioner’s table and checked his watch.

It was nine in the morning exactly.

He sat perfectly still in Courtroom 3B of the county courthouse with his hands flat on the polished wood.

The wooden chair felt hard against his back and gave him no comfort after a night without sleep.

Derek sat on his right in a stiff, pressed gray shirt instead of his usual work clothes.

The familiar smell of shop grease was gone, replaced by a faint, clean whiff of laundry soap.