𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 54: 𝐀 𝐏𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐘𝐨𝐮

𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚'𝐬 𝐍𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐬°°°

The courtroom was a vault of tension.

Nevena sat stiffly behind the defense desk, wrists still faintly marked from the cuffs. Her heart no longer raced.

There was nothing left to hope for. She’d stopped following the back-and-forth since yesterday.

Whatever fire had kept her alive through the cell nights… had burned out after Junior denied her.

The judge adjusted her glasses, voice heavy with finality.

“Counselor Mateo, given the evidence presented, the court is ready to proceed to—”

“Objection, Your Honor,” Mateo’s voice cut in.

The gavel froze midair. “On what grounds, counselor?”

Mateo rose, straightening his tie. Everyone in the room knew this was his last attempt to buy time.

“On the grounds that the prosecution has failed to establish a proper legal procedure in handling my client’s arrest and detention.”

The prosecutor shot to her feet. “Your Honor—”

“Sit down, Mrs. Polenta,” the judge said without looking her way. “Counselor Mateo, are you implying a breach of human rights?”

“Yes, Your Honor,” Mateo pressed. “You and I both know a tainted process invalidates the reliability of any evidence. Moreover, the officer in charge admitted under oath that my client was detained for more than twenty-four hours without a lawyer—thirty-six, to be exact.”

“Objection,” Mrs. Polenta snapped, impatience sharpening her tone. “Counselor is speculating. This is a desperate attempt to stall a verdict that’s already clear.”

Mateo didn’t flinch at her outburst. “Desperation, Your Honor, only applies when there’s certainty. And if we’re so certain, why rush judgment?”

“Enough,” the judge’s gavel struck once, irritation creeping in at their display. “This court does not appreciate theatrics. Unless the defense has tangible grounds for his motion, we proceed.”

“I do,” Mateo said firmly. “A report—one that proves the prosecution’s story is inconsistent.”

Mrs. Polenta folded her arms. “Then where is it, Counselor?”

“Your Honor, this evidence will take the case in a new direction,” Mateo replied, lying through his teeth but keeping his face unreadable.

The judge studied him, tapping her pen. “That’s a very convenient claim.”

“Truth often is,” Mateo murmured, buttoning his jacket. “At least if we’re about to ruin a woman’s life, we should be sure the evidence wasn’t tampered with.”

Whispers rippled through the room. For a heartbeat, even Breanna seemed restless with this new evidence speculation.

Mrs. Polenta opened her mouth to counter, but the judge’s raised hand silenced her.

“Counselor Mateo, go ahead and show the court your proof.”

“Yes, Your Honor.” Mateo nodded, leaning forward slightly. “To secure the material evidence withheld during investigation, the defense merely asks for half an hour.”

Mock laughter chorused through the courtroom, but Mateo stood firm. Undeterred.

“Withheld, indeed,” Mrs. Polenta scoffed. “The defense had full access to discovery. He’s just wasting the court’s time.”

The judge frowned. “Counselor Mateo, does it look like we have all day?”

“No, Your Honor,” he said evenly, but was quick to maintain his plea “but convicting a woman without a fair chance to defend herself—that’s absurd.”

“Your Honor,” Mrs. Polenta interjected, stepping up. “I move that we disregard these theatrics and proceed to verdict. The state should not be dragged through conjecture.”

“You’re right,” the judge sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “This court does not entertain emotional arguments and cannot keep waiting.”

“But as an act of goodwill to our foreign diplomacy,” the judge continued, eyes heavy with decision, “we will take a short recess before ruling.”

“Seriously?” Mrs. Polenta’s smirk fell.

“Thank you, Your Honor,” Mateo acknowledged quickly.

“Don’t be hasty, Counselor,” the judge warned. “Let me make something clear—If this report fails to appear, your motion for delay will be struck, and sentencing will proceed immediately.”

“Understood.” Mateo gave a curt nod, jaw clenched hard.

The gavel struck again.

“All rise.”

As the judge exited, Nevena exhaled wearily. Her eyes followed the empty space where justice should have stood.

Mateo sank slowly into his chair, hands clasped tightly, pretending calm.

Inside, he prayed Antonio’s promised evidence would arrive before the recess ended. He couldn’t afford to lose a case at the brink of retirement.

Drawn by his obsession, he called again— but he got the same answer. >We're almost there

Thirty-five minutes later, the judge returned to her seat, adjusting her glasses, eyes narrowing at the defense table.

“Mr. Mateo,” she clears her throat, “you’ve exhausted your objections and time. I’ll proceed with my verdict.”

Mateo’s throat tightened. “Your Honor, if you’ll just—”

“Counselor Mateo,” Mrs .Polenta snapped, standing, “This courtroom has been patient enough. You're just grasping at shadows and mind you, justice delayed is justice denied.”

Nevena closed her eyes. She could almost hear the cold verdict—jail or deportation with future visa denial.

Her breath hitched once—silent, sharp. Deportation sounded merciful but Jail.

Hell no, she couldn't imagine the clink of the cuffs to return to her wrists.

“Your Honor, five more minutes” Mateo pressed, desperate.

“No” The judge snapped, "You had your time to present this so-called ‘new evidence’. We can't keep waiting”

Stillness spread across the courtroom, subtle enough for the verdict.

Then, quietly, before the judge could even read out the case code, the side door opened.

Junior slipped in, clad in a black customized suit, a lollipop in one hand and a briefcase tight in the other.

No one noticed him until he was already at the defense table.

“Uncle!" He called softly and Mateo’s eyes widened, he leaned really low, to the boy's level.

“A package for you” Junior whispered just enough, dropping the briefcase to the floor.