Michael shot to his feet and planted himself in front of the old man, blocking my line of sight.
"Don't you dare threaten my father. Your family is in the wrong here, not him!"
"My father is eighty-three years old, and he's suffered like this, and you people still refuse to own up to it. How can anyone be this shameless!"
Even the judge furrowed his brow and looked at me.
"Defendant, I suggest you disclose your grandfather's whereabouts immediately."
The plaintiff's attorney submitted each piece of evidence with an air of absolute confidence, then turned to offer me a few words of counsel.
"Defendant, the evidence is overwhelming. Do you really intend to keep obstructing these proceedings?"
Even Mr. Finch shoved me impatiently and sneered.
"They've already presented two pieces of evidence. What else is there to say? Just cooperate and let's wrap this up."
I let out a cold laugh and pointed at the evidence in the attorney's hands.
"Every last piece of it is fabricated. Why would I be afraid?"
A gasp rippled through the gallery. Michael's face flushed crimson.
A six-foot man, eyes turning red in an instant, drawing stares from every corner of the room.