“Don’t you feel embarrassed sitting here with normal people?”
The words cut through the courthouse hallway like a blade.
She heard them without looking up.
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The girl sat quietly in her wheelchair, a neat stack of documents resting on her lap. She had come to this building for one reason only—to demand what should never have required a fight: a ramp at the entrance of her apartment building. Something basic. Something human.
She was reading through her papers when she sensed them.
A group of men lingered near the wall—local tough guys who weren’t there for justice or paperwork. They had come to “handle business.” And boredom made them cruel.
