Los Vinania District Courthouse – Day One of the Trial
The courthouse stood like a fortress—gray, cold, and indifferent. It wasn't built to feel like justice; it was built to control chaos. Maria-Isabel felt that in her bones as the prison van pulled up behind the building.
She had been silent the entire ride.
When the guard opened the door and guided her out in cuffs, her heart thudded—not from fear of judgment, but from the unbearable weight of being seen. She kept her chin up, even as her knees trembled.
She wore a plain cream blouse under a beige cardigan, her hair loosely tied back. No makeup, no distractions. Just her—fragile but not broken.
The courtroom was packed.
Reporters, lawyers, a few curious townspeople, and in the back, someone she hadn't expected: a woman clutching a teddy bear. Officer April. Isabella wasn't there, but a piece of her was.
