“Sit down, Mr. Lowell,” Merritt said flatly. “You’ll get your turn.” The reprimand landed with the dull thud of finality. Lowell sank back into his seat, lips tightening. Merritt turned again to the child, who still hadn’t lifted her gaze from the leash looped tightly in her hands.
Beyond the glass partition, camera flashes flared like heat lightning. The case had drawn more than curiosity. It had drawn outrage. Donors, trustees, parents, and politicians all wanted someone to blame. For now, that someone was sitting at the defense table.