The prosecutor’s expression shifted for the first time.
Ethan held Noah with one arm and raised the device with the other.
“Are you worried about what’s on it?” he asked, locking eyes with Richard.
“I’m concerned about the integrity of this court.”
“No,” Ethan said quietly. “You’re concerned about your name.”
Silence fell again.
Heavy. Crushing.
The kind of silence that signals the beginning of the end for a lie.
The judge extended her hand.
“Mr. Brooks, give the child to his mother and the device to the clerk. Now.”
Ethan hesitated briefly.
Then he gently placed Noah back into Olivia’s arms, with a care that made several people look away.
After that, he handed the device over.
Richard slipped his hand into his jacket pocket.
A small movement.
But Ethan saw it.
So did a security officer by the door.
“Hands where I can see them!” she shouted.
Heads snapped in his direction.
Richard slowly raised his hand.
Empty.
“I was just reaching for my phone to call my lawyer.”
“No one is calling anyone,” the judge said sharply, “until we know what’s on that device.”
The journalists in the room, who had already mentally closed the case, now leaned forward like predators sensing blood.