When he stepped into Courtroom 12C, the confidence drained from his face. Behind the bench, wearing a black robe and reading through a case file, sat Judge Lorraine Bennett.
Their eyes met, and his stomach twisted. The room seemed to shrink around him.
“Officer Hughes,” said the judge, her tone clear and controlled. “Please approach.”
He hesitated. The courtroom was silent except for the faint rustle of papers. Hughes walked forward, every step heavier than the last. The arrogance that had filled him earlier was gone, replaced by dread.
Throughout the hearing, Judge Bennett questioned him sharply about his report. Every flaw, every inconsistency was exposed under her precise, calm voice. She was professional, composed, yet each word seemed to peel away another layer of his false confidence. Hughes stammered, unable to meet her eyes.
During a short recess, another officer leaned close and whispered, “You look terrible. What’s going on?”
Hughes only shook his head. He could not bring himself to speak. The humiliation sat heavy in his chest. He realized that he had insulted someone whose reputation and authority reached far beyond his own.