“October 3rd, 2014,” she said clearly. “Riverside Café. Back table. You accepted a brown envelope from Victor Salazar. Fifty thousand dollars to dismiss the pollution case against his company.”
The room erupted with shocked whispers.
Reporters began typing frantically on their phones. The prosecutor stood up in disbelief.
Richard felt his chest tighten.
No one had ever known about that meeting.
“You’re lying!” he shouted desperately. “This is a trick!”
But the girl continued.
“Sarah Mitchell,” she said quietly. “You sentenced her to twenty-five years because she reported corruption in the police department. She had a four-year-old son waiting outside the courtroom. He cried, and you ordered the doors closed so you wouldn’t hear him.”
Richard’s face turned pale.
He remembered the crying.
He had buried that memory for years.
“Please… stop,” he whispered.
The girl stepped back and turned toward the cameras that were broadcasting live across the nation.
“This man is not justice,” she said, pointing toward the judge. “He sells pain like a business.”
Then she looked back at Richard.
“And today the business closes.”
The Iron Judge collapsed into his chair.