The lead attorney was winding down his closing motion, his voice booming across the auditorium, emphasizing the sanctity of parental rights and cultural obligations. Harish nodded, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips. He was so engrossed in his performance, he didn’t notice the small figure moving in the front row.
From the corner of my eye, I saw Leela slip her hand from Siobhan’s. Siobhan, startled, reached out, but Leela was already on the move.
The little girl, in her bright yellow dress, walked straight down the center aisle of the auditorium. Her tiny steps echoed loudly in the sudden, expectant silence. Every single person in the room turned to watch her.
She reached the stage, her head barely reaching the counsel table. She didn’t hesitate. With a determined expression, she walked right up to Dean Holbrook’s desk.
She held out the blue USB drive. The same one I now clutched, hidden, in my own pocket. Leela had kept her promise.
“My grandpa lied,” Leela said, her small voice clear and surprisingly loud, amplified by the auditorium’s acoustics. “He lied to make my mommy look sick so he could take my grandmother’s box.”
The entire auditorium went dead silent. You could hear a pin drop.
Harish, who had been leaning back in his chair, shot forward as if struck. “Leela! What are you doing?” he bellowed, jumping up from his chair in a fury. His face was contorted with disbelief and rage.
But before he could take another step, the campus officers, who had been standing discreetly by the stage wings, moved. Two of them immediately stepped in front of Harish, blocking his path. Their expressions were stern, their presence an undeniable barrier.
Leela didn’t flinch. She simply placed the blue USB drive carefully onto Dean Holbrook’s desk, right next to the microphone. Her duty done, she looked back at me, a tiny, triumphant smile on her face.
Dean Holbrook slowly picked up the drive, her eyes, wide with surprise, meeting mine.
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