His hair was uncombed, and his collar was slightly crooked.

He looked small in the high-backed wooden chair.

Margaret sat in the front row of the gallery directly behind him.

She wore a black wool coat and a double strand of pearls around her neck.

Her face was pale, her lips pressed into a thin, bloodless line.

She glared at the back of my head, but I did not turn around to meet her gaze.

Daniel entered the courtroom just as the clock struck nine.

He did not look at Grant.

He walked straight to the defense table and stood at the far end, keeping his briefcase closed.

The bailiff called the court to order.

Judge Thomas took her seat on the bench.

She looked at the paperwork in front of her, then over her glasses at the defense table.

“Mr. Vance,” the judge said, her voice dry and precise. “I have your emergency motion to withdraw.”

“Yes, Your Honor,” Daniel said.

He stepped forward, his posture rigid.

“And you are representing to this court that there is an irreconcilable conflict?”