The ten minutes of recess evaporated.
When the double doors of the courtroom opened and Kevin Lomax crossed the threshold, the air seemed to thicken in his wake.
If upon leaving he projected the image of the charismatic Southern lawyer, that charming man capable of seducing a jury with a smile and soft rhetoric, that person had ceased to exist.
The mask had fallen.
In his place, there was an entity of lethal seriousness.
His face, previously expressive and warm, had become a facade of inscrutable marble, empathy had been excised to give way to a ruthless professionalism.
He had made a decision.
He chose victory, and paid with his conscience in cash.
Without looking at anyone, Kevin walked directly to the defense table and leaned briefly toward Lloyd and, without looking him in the eyes, ordered him in a whisper that caused him a shiver:
"Sit up straight and shut your mouth. Don't make a single gesture."
Then, he turned toward the judge's bench, drawing himself up to his full height.
"Your Honor, the defense is ready to resume cross-examination."
His gaze turned slowly until it locked onto Barbara, who was still sitting on the witness stand.
There was no longer warmth, nor probing.
It was the look of a coroner about to open a corpse.
Barbara shuddered visibly under that intensity and wanted to look away, but felt pinned to her chair.
Kevin walked to the center of the room, without getting too close, maintaining a distance.
"Miss Rhodes, could you tell the jury if you consider yourself a person with a... vivid imagination?"
The question, apparently innocuous and disconnected from the context, disconcerted the courtroom.
Sarah, sitting at the prosecution table, frowned.
Barbara nodded doubtfully, "I... suppose so."
"And that imagination, you often channel it through art, correct?" Nodding, Kevin walked toward his table to pick up a sealed evidence bag that his assistant handed him. "Do you like to draw, Miss Rhodes?"
"Yes... I like to draw."
"Excellent."
Kevin held up the clear plastic bag, inside was a spiral notebook with worn covers.
"Allow me to show you this. Defense, Exhibit D," he announced. "Miss Rhodes, do you recognize this notebook as your property?"
Upon seeing the object, the little color Barbara had left in her face disappeared and her eyes widened with pure panic.
That was her drawing diary, her private space. How...?
"Objection!"
Sarah jumped to her feet.
"Your Honor, the defense is introducing surprise evidence! An adequate chain of custody has not been established for that object, we were not informed of its existence during discovery, and it lacks relevance to the facts being judged today."
Kevin turned toward the judge with exasperating calm, as if he expected the interruption.
"Your Honor, this notebook was recovered from Mr. Gettys' desk in classroom 3B. The defendant claims that the plaintiff forgot it there the week prior to the incident. As for relevance..." he paused dramatically, looking at the jury. "The content of this notebook goes directly to the witness's credibility and demonstrates a deep bias and preexisting animosity against my client."
"..."
The judge hesitated, looking at both lawyers. Finally, he adjusted his glasses and nodded toward Kevin.
"Objection overruled. But I warn you, Attorney Lomax, establish the relevance quickly or I will strike it."
"Understood, Your Honor."
With permission granted, Kevin took a pair of white latex gloves out of his pocket and put them on with deliberate movements. He opened the evidence bag, extracted the notebook, and looked for a previously marked page.
He walked until he was in front of the jury, holding the notebook open so everyone could see it clearly.
"Ladies and gentlemen, look closely."
The members of the jury craned their necks.
On the paper there was neither a landscape nor an innocent portrait.
There was a grotesque drawing, made with violent strokes of black pen, which represented a caricatured figure dressed in a suit and tie, but with a deformed pig nose, dripping fangs, and horns on his forehead.
Despite the exaggeration, the caricature captured unmistakable features of Lloyd Gettys.
But the most damning thing was not the drawing, it was the text written next to it in large letters and bolded with fury:
[DIE, YOU DISGUSTING OLD PIG!]
A murmur ran through the room.
The image of the "innocent girl" had just received a brutal blow.
Kevin slammed the notebook shut and turned toward Barbara.
"Miss Rhodes, can you explain to this court why, in your private notebook, you dedicated time and effort to create a representation so full of hate toward the man who, according to your previous testimony, you 'respected and admired' before the incident?"
"I…"
Barbara froze, opening and closing her mouth without a single word coming out.
Her mind was blank.
That had only been a scribble, a moment of rage after Gettys humiliated her in front of the class for a poorly done assignment weeks ago.
It was a private venting...
But Kevin did not give her a second to recover and opened the notebook again.
The following content was even more visual and damaging than the previous one.
They were raw sketches, stick figures performing acts that left nothing to the imagination.
They were explicit, vulgar, and, in the context of a courtroom, lethal.
"And what do you say about this, Miss Rhodes?" he asked, holding up the notebook so the jury could see the obscene scribbles. "It seems your artistic interest extends to quite adult areas."
"The defense has reviewed the affidavit of one of your former classmates, Miss Jessica Miller. According to her testimony, during a school party last month, you participated in a game of 'Truth or Dare'."
"In that game, you described in great detail certain... sexual fantasies that involved authority figures."
He leaned forward, locking his eyes on her.
"Is it true that you have an inclination to sexualize your interactions with your teachers to gain social attention among your peers?"
"No! That's not true!" Barbara collapsed again. Tears welled up again, but this time with hysteria. "It was just a stupid game! They pressured me! They forced me to say those things! It wasn't like that!"
But her defense sounded strident and guilty against Kevin's icy calm.
The damage was done.
The jury's gazes, which previously radiated pity, hardened, transforming into suspicion and moral judgment.
They no longer saw a defenseless victim, they saw an unstable teenager who drew obscenities, who hated her teacher in secret and who, according to her own social circle, had inappropriate fantasies.
How much credibility could a girl like that have?
Kevin's objective had been fulfilled.
He didn't need to prove that Lloyd was innocent, he only needed to prove that Barbara was a liar capable of inventing a story.
In the defendant's seat, Lloyd covered his face with his hands at the exact moment, his shoulders contracting in a spasm of pain, perfectly selling the image of the betrayed and destroyed mentor.
The courtroom was leaning dangerously in favor of the defense.
Then, Sarah stood up with a face that maintained that imperturbable calm that had made her famous.
"Your Honor, the prosecution requests permission for redirect."
The judge nodded.
Sarah walked to the witness stand, taking a tissue out of her pocket and handing it to Barbara.
"Barbara, look at me," she ordered softly, blocking Kevin and the rest of the room with her presence.
She obeyed, sniffling, with red and swollen eyes.
"That notebook... is private, right? It is your personal diary," Sarah established.
Barbara nodded. "Yes."
"And in that diary, do you draw everything you feel? Have you drawn your parents when they forbid you from going out? Your friends when you fight with them? Even people you dislike?"
"Yes... everyone."
"So," Sarah paused, making sure the jury heard, "could we say that drawing is your outlet? Is it the way you process anger, sadness, or frustration so you don't have to scream in real life?"
"...Yes..."
With that affirmation, Sarah turned, facing the jury.
"Ladies and gentlemen," she began, walking in front of them. "What the defense has just shown you is not proof of malice. It is proof that Barbara is a normal fifteen-year-old teenager."
She pointed to the notebook that was still on the table, "A girl is humiliated by a teacher in class. She returns home, furious, and draws an ugly caricature in her private diary to feel better. Does that make her a Machiavellian conspirator? No. It makes her human."
"Who among us, during their adolescence, didn't insult a teacher behind their back? Who didn't write horrible things in a diary or doodle on a desk? Are we going to criminalize teenage angst? Are we going to decide that, because a girl drew some horns on a piece of paper, she automatically loses her right to truth and justice?"
She saw how some members of the jury nodded slightly, recognizing the logic, and the shame of having judged too quickly was reflected on their faces.
Then, Sarah's gaze turned toward Kevin.
"As for the game of 'Truth or Dare' that Attorney Lomax considers such compelling evidence..." Sarah let out a brief, incredulous laugh. "I ask you: since when are the silly things kids say at a party, under peer pressure, trying to fit in and seem older, considered a sworn statement of character?"
"If we are going to judge abuse victims based on the stupid things they said in a party game to impress their friends, then none of us would be safe."
With those words, she dismantled the narrative of the "troubled girl" and returned Barbara to her place: a common, imperfect, and scared teenager, whose behavior was completely irrelevant to the fact that she had been assaulted.
________
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