Ella
The familiar rap of the gavel echoed through the room, announcing a brief and sorely-needed break.
“We will resume in fifteen minutes,” the judge declared, eyes scanning the crowd for any signs of objection.
Logan and I quickly retreated from the central floor, seeking a quieter corner of the bustling courthouse.
The weight of the recent testimonies bore down on me. My head was full of images of the struggling tenants, their tales of hardship, and most of all, the young boy with Leukemia and his resilient mother.
But it was the mask of indifference Logan wore that disturbed me the most.
The courthouse buzzed with activity as people got up to take their breaks, but in the midst of the chaos, I found a small, secluded alcove in the stairwell. The hushed voices
