The courtroom was too big for her.
Hana sat in the gallery, her feet dangling from the bench, the teddy bear squeezed tightly in her lap. The air smelled of polished wood and old paper. Every whisper seemed to echo, bouncing off the walls and into her ears.
At the front, her father sat alone at the defendant's table. His hands were cuffed, his shoulders hunched. He looked lost, like a child who had wandered away from home. When he spotted Hana in the crowd, he gave a shaky smile and mouthed her name.
She lifted the teddy bear higher, as if to say, I'm here. I believe you.
The judge entered. The courtroom rose. Hana copied the movement, heart hammering. When they sat again, a man in a crumpled suit shuffled into the defendant's side.
The lawyer.
He was younger than the other attorneys in the room, his tie crooked, his briefcase battered at the edges. His eyes darted nervously as he placed his papers on the table.
"Mr. Choi," the judge announced, "you've been assigned as counsel for the defendant. Are you prepared to proceed?"
"Yes, Your Honor," the lawyer said quickly, though his voice wavered.
Hana studied him carefully. He didn't look confident, but he didn't look cruel either. That was something.
The prosecutor rose, his steps steady, his suit immaculate. "Your Honor," he began, his voice loud and clear, "this is a straightforward case. The defendant was found with the murder weapon in his own home. The victim's blood was on it. The defendant himself is unable to provide a coherent account of his actions. We will prove, beyond doubt, that he is guilty."
Murmurs rippled through the gallery. Hana hugged her bear tighter.
Her father looked confused. He tugged at his lawyer's sleeve like a child tugging at his teacher. "I… I didn't do bad," he whispered, his voice carrying through the microphone. "I good man. I promise."
The courtroom chuckled. Even the judge sighed heavily.
Hana's nails dug into the teddy's worn fur.
The lawyer stood. He adjusted his tie, his Adam's apple bobbing nervously. "Your Honor," he said, "my client… is not guilty. He is… misunderstood."
Laughter again. Hana's chest ached.
But then, as the chuckles died down, the lawyer's eyes flicked to the gallery. For a brief moment, they locked on Hana's. He saw her small hands gripping the teddy, her tear-bright eyes pleading. Something shifted in his gaze—hesitation, then resolve.
He turned back to the judge. "Your Honor, the defense requests time to review evidence independently. We believe there are… details that have been overlooked."
The prosecutor scoffed. "Overlooked? The man was practically sitting on the evidence."
But the judge, perhaps out of pity, nodded. "Very well. You have one week. Don't waste it."
The gavel struck. Court was adjourned
The hallway outside the courtroom was chaos—reporters shouting, cameras flashing, strangers whispering. Hana clung to Mrs. Park's hand, the teddy squished against her chest.
The lawyer slipped through the crowd and crouched in front of her. Up close, he looked even younger, his eyes tired but kind.
"You're Hana, right?" he asked softly.
She nodded.
"I saw you watching. You… believe your father's innocent."
Her nod was fiercer this time.
The lawyer hesitated, then leaned closer, lowering his voice. "I'm going to need your help."
Hana blinked.
"I know you can't speak. But maybe you've seen something. Something others missed." His eyes flicked to the teddy in her arms. "That bear… you haven't let go of it once. Is it important?"
Hana's grip tightened. Slowly, she pulled the bear up and pointed to a faint, rusty stain near its side. Her heart pounded. Would he understand?
The lawyer's eyes narrowed. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a small flashlight. Shielding it from prying eyes, he angled the light toward the bear's fur.
His expression changed instantly.
He looked at Hana, then at the bear, then back at her father being led away in chains.
"Blood," he whispered.
Hana's eyes filled with desperate hope. She nodded furiously.
The lawyer snapped his briefcase shut and straightened, his face hardening with determination. "Then maybe," he murmured, more to himself than to her, "this case isn't as hopeless as they think."
For the first time, Hana believed he might actually fight.