“Having heard the testimony and reviewed the forensic evidence,” the judge began.

Just then, the double doors at the back of the courtroom swung open with a loud bang.

A young woman in a hospital uniform stood in the doorway, breathing heavily.

She held a white envelope in her hand.

She looked around the room until her eyes locked onto Mr. Miller.

“Mr. Miller,” she gasped, her voice echoing in the high ceiling.

“The lab results from the infant ward just came in,” she said.

The young woman took three quick steps forward, her wet shoes squeaking on the polished linoleum floor of the courtroom.

She left a trail of dark, damp footprints behind her.

Mr. Miller stood up quickly, his chair scraping loudly against the wood.

“Your Honor, this is the official toxicology report from Des Moines Methodist,” Mr. Miller said, his voice steady.

He walked over to the wooden gate, took the envelope from the courier, and murmured a quick thank you.

The courier nodded, wiped her damp forehead with the back of her sleeve, and retreated to the back of the room.