Robert moved into my path, not quite touching my sleeve.

“That uniform isn’t going to carry any weight in there, honey.

This is Greenville.”

“I’ve got a man lined up to list the place,” he said.

“Save us both the hassle.”

“It isn’t for you,” I said, and walked through the doors.

Behind me my mother said my name one time, softly, and didn’t finish the sentence.

Courtroom 3B held eleven people and the smell of lemon polish rubbed into old wood.