November 10th.
Greenwood City Intermediate Court, Ashford Province.
That afternoon, a taxi had barely rolled to a complete stop in front of the courthouse when one of its rear doors flew open and a slender young woman in flat shoes hurried out with a microphone in hand.
“Damn it, we’re late!
If we don’t get inside now, the trial will be half over before we even find a seat!” The reporter took one look at the long flight of steps leading to the main entrance and immediately started running, her shoes striking the stone in rapid succession while the general noise outside the courthouse echoed around her.
“Ryan Stone, you’re dead!
If we miss the biggest story Greenwood City has had in months, I’m reporting you to the editor the second we get back!” A slightly chubby young man wearing a press badge struggled after her while carrying a tripod and camera equipment, his face filled with grievance as he gasped, “Rachel, the company car broke down!
We had to take a taxi, so how is that my fault?” He took another breath before adding defensively, “And sure, maybe it was my first assignment and I forgot the camera the first time we left, but when I went back for it, how was I supposed to know I’d grabbed the broken lens?” Rachel Stone nearly stumbled from sheer anger.
The two siblings had joined the same newspaper after graduating and, by some stroke of fate, had been assigned to work together.
During their first six months, neither of them had managed to land a major story, and lately the editor-in-chief’s expression whenever he saw them had become increasingly threatening.
Then the Pine Hollow case exploded across Greenwood City.
Rachel had immediately recognized it as the opportunity they had been waiting for and planned to arrive at the courthouse around noon so they could secure good positions before the crowd arrived, only for Ryan’s series of mistakes to delay them until the last possible moment.
“You actually have the nerve to defend yourself?” Rachel kept climbing without slowing down, while Ryan was about to offer another excuse when he suddenly heard an engine behind them and instinctively looked back.
His expression changed.
“Rachel, look!
The prisoner transport is here!” She immediately stopped and turned.
A white judicial-police van was slowly passing through the courthouse gates before continuing toward the secured entrance at the side of the building.
Ryan watched until it disappeared around the corner and lowered his voice.
“That should be Martin Hayes.
The timing matches.” If Martin had arrived, then the hearing really was about to begin.
Rachel did not waste another second.
She turned around and rushed up the remaining steps, breathing heavily by the time she crossed the final one, with several loose strands of hair already clinging to her forehead.
The moment she entered the main hall, the atmosphere changed.
High above the spacious lobby hung Eastland’s national emblem, and the solemn surroundings immediately made Rachel rein in her frustration.
After quickly identifying the proper corridor, she hurried toward the First Courtroom, where the Pine Hollow case would be heard.
She took the elevator upstairs, crossed a quiet hallway, and finally stopped before the closed courtroom doors, where faint voices could already be heard from the other side.
Rachel took a breath, placed one hand on the handle, and carefully pushed the door open.
Through the narrow gap, she could see the front of the courtroom.
The judges’ bench stood on the highest platform with three high-backed chairs behind it, while the national emblem hung prominently above the center seat.
Below the bench sat the defendant’s dock, with the prosecution tables to one side and the defense table to the other.
The hearing had not yet begun, so those seats were still mostly empty.
The public gallery behind them, however, was anything but empty.
More than four hundred people had already filled the seats, and the low murmur of hundreds of conversations blended into a constant background hum.
Thank God.
We made it before it started.
Rachel finally relaxed enough to breathe properly, and when she looked toward the front rows, she noticed another female reporter waving at her.
“Over here.” Ryan stayed near the back to set up the camera while Rachel hurried toward the saved seat.
Claire Morgan, a more experienced reporter from another paper, pointed at the empty chair beside her and whispered, “Sit down quickly.
Do you know how many complaints I got for saving this seat?
Especially this close to the front.” Rachel gave her an embarrassed smile as she sat down and pulled her notebook from her bag.
“Thanks, Claire.
Dinner’s on me next time.” “You say that every time.” Rachel pretended not to hear and immediately began preparing her notes.
Claire leaned closer and explained, “There are about twenty minutes left before the hearing starts, so most of the people involved haven’t come in yet.
The public attention around this case is unbelievable, though.
I honestly didn’t expect even the First Courtroom to be this crowded, and this is the largest courtroom in the entire building.” Rachel glanced around at the packed gallery before her attention shifted toward the three nameplates placed on the judges’ bench.
Peter Lawson.
Chief Judge Harold Bennett.
Robert Ellison.
She lowered her voice.
“What’s special about this panel?” Claire looked at her as though remembering that Rachel had only recently graduated.
“Group One of the First Criminal Division handles some of the most serious and high-profile criminal cases in Greenwood City.
They’re considered one of the most professional and reliable panels in the court.” She glanced toward the center nameplate.
“Chief Judge Harold Bennett is the important one.
He presides over the First Criminal Division, and he has a reputation for being extremely impartial.
Public sympathy, newspaper pressure, political noise—none of that means much to him if he believes the evidence points somewhere else.” Claire sighed.
“He’s also stubborn.
If the evidence in the Pine Hollow case is genuinely unfavorable to Martin Hayes, don’t expect Bennett to bend just because the entire city wants a particular result.” Rachel looked toward the empty center chair with a mixture of respect and concern.
In a case where public emotion was already boiling over, having a presiding judge who deliberately refused to let that emotion affect him could only make the hearing even more explosive.
Just as she was thinking about that, a side door opened and the murmuring in the gallery noticeably quieted.
Several men in dark suits entered together, and the middle-aged man leading them crossed the courtroom without acknowledging the hundreds of eyes following him before sitting at the prosecution table and beginning to organize his files.
Claire immediately lowered her voice.
“That’s Henry Walsh, the lead prosecutor.” Rachel glanced down at her notes.
Claire continued, “People in legal circles sometimes call him a case-handling machine.
He’s a lot like Bennett in one respect: personal feelings don’t matter much once he starts working.
He follows the evidence and the law.” Rachel looked from the prosecution table toward the empty judges’ bench.
A prosecutor who refused to bend to emotion and a presiding judge famous for doing exactly the same thing, both handling a case in which practically the entire city had already taken an emotional side.
Claire shook her head slightly.
“This hearing is going to be something.” Henry Walsh was soon joined by Paul Mercer and Aaron Blake, who quietly arranged their own materials at the prosecution table.
Not long afterward, several more people entered.
Claire subtly pointed them out.
“The elderly couple sitting near the prosecution side are Walter and Martha Pike, Ethan Pike’s parents.
They’re also participating as witnesses and civil claimants.” Rachel followed her gaze and saw the elderly couple murmuring to each other with unpleasant expressions.
“And the man beside them wearing the suit and gold-rimmed glasses is Derek Vaughn, counsel for the victim’s family.” Claire’s mouth twisted slightly.
“He has a reputation around Greenwood City.
Very capable when there’s money involved, but I wouldn’t exactly describe him as a model of professional virtue.” Rachel immediately remembered several stories she had heard about Derek Vaughn.
The man himself was already arranging documents with a faint smile on his face, and even from a distance there was something about that smile that made him look less like an attorney preparing for court and more like a merchant preparing to close an especially profitable deal.
A few minutes later, Claire suddenly straightened.
“The defendant’s here.” Rachel immediately looked toward the secured entrance.
Two judicial officers entered with Martin Hayes between them.
Martin had become painfully thin during his detention, and the detention vest hanging from his body only emphasized how much weight he had lost.
His eyes looked cloudy and exhausted, while his back had developed a slight stoop that made him appear considerably older than he actually was.
Once the officers brought him to the defendant’s dock, Martin sat down and instinctively looked toward the defense table.
At almost the same moment, a young man in a neat suit walked calmly into the courtroom.
Adrian Cole.
Despite his age, there was no visible nervousness in his expression, and after taking his seat at the defense table, he simply opened his briefcase and began arranging his documents as though this were an ordinary day at the office rather than the most closely watched criminal trial in Greenwood City.
His appearance immediately caused whispers to spread through the gallery.
Claire clicked her tongue quietly.
“That’s Martin Hayes’s defense attorney.
Adrian Cole, from Blackwood & Reed.” Rachel quickly wrote the name down.
“How experienced is he?” “That’s the strange part.
As far as anyone can find out, he doesn’t have a real criminal-trial record yet.
He’s basically a rookie.” Rachel’s pen stopped.
“A rookie?” She looked at Adrian again, then shifted her gaze toward the opposite side.
At the prosecution table sat Henry Walsh, Paul Mercer, and Aaron Blake.
Beside them were Walter and Martha Pike, who would also provide testimony, while Derek Vaughn sat ready with the material he had spent days gathering.
Then Rachel looked back toward the defense table.
Adrian was sitting there alone.
The contrast was so obvious that she hardly needed Claire to explain it.
Even people in the surrounding seats had noticed, and whispers began spreading as spectators repeatedly looked between the crowded prosecution side and the almost empty defense table.
Rachel had no idea what to write about the disparity because, on paper, the two sides barely looked comparable.
Before the discussion could grow any louder, the court clerk’s voice rang through the room.
“All rise.” Everyone immediately stood, and the doors beside the bench opened as three judges entered in their robes.
The moment they appeared, the gallery fell silent.
Chief Judge Harold Bennett walked in the center with Peter Lawson and Robert Ellison beside him, all three wearing the calm, serious expressions expected of judges entering a major criminal hearing.
Bennett took the center seat while the other two judges sat on either side, and once the clerk completed the opening formalities, the presiding judge slowly raised his gaze and surveyed the entire courtroom.
His eyes passed over the prosecution, the victim’s representatives, Martin Hayes, Adrian Cole, and finally the packed public gallery before returning to the case materials in front of him.
Then he reached for the gavel.
The courtroom was so quiet that when it struck the bench, the sound carried cleanly to the back row.
Chief Judge Bennett began in a steady, resonant voice.
“This court is now in session to hear the first-instance criminal proceedings concerning the death of Ethan Pike, a resident of Pine Hollow Village, Riverton County, Greenwood City, Ashford Province.”