Russell sat motionless, hands folded on the polished table. Judge Leonard adjusted his glasses and looked again at the photograph of Toby’s shirt.

Then Toby stood up.

The movement caught the whole room off guard, and Benedict stopped mid-sentence.

I reached for my son’s sleeve. “Toby, sit down.”

He shook his head. His ears had gone bright pink, and his fingers trembled where they gripped the lower hem of his shirt.

“This is the shirt he’s talking about,” Toby said to the room.