“Mr. Brandt Halden,” the officer says. “You are being detained on suspicion of attempted 𝕕𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕤𝕥𝕚𝕔 𝕙𝕠𝕞𝕚𝕔𝕚𝕕𝕖 and conspiracy to obstruct medical examination.”
Brandt stares at me, furious and speechless. The officer signals to two colleagues waiting near the entrance. They approach quickly and take hold of his wrists. He resists, but the entire garden has already turned against him. The recording keeps playing until his voice becomes proof in the open air.
Guests watch in stunned silence as the officers escort him across the patio toward the terrace steps. Brandt looks back once. His eyes burn with disbelief, not guilt. He never expected to be outmaneuvered.
The moment the officers disappear with him, the garden feels different. Softer. The lantern light seems warmer. People begin to murmur again, not in celebration, but in quiet realization.
I place the microphone on the stand. My hands remain steady. I do not speak again. I simply walk to the edge of the patio where the sea breeze pushes lightly against my dress. The waves in the distance shimmer under the moonlight.