The doors did not simply open—they announced something.
A slow, deliberate creak stretched across the courtroom, pulling every eye toward the entrance as though an unseen force had taken hold of the moment. Conversations died mid-whisper, and even the air itself seemed to shift, growing tighter and heavier, as if the entire room was bracing for what was about to step through.
Then the figure entered.
There was no rush in the movement, no hesitation either. Every step was controlled, measured, and deliberate in a way that made the sound of heels against the floor echo louder than it should have. It wasn't just a walk—it was an arrival.
Vivian felt her breath catch in her throat as she leaned forward slightly, her eyes narrowing in an attempt to see clearly. Something about the figure felt off, like a memory trying to surface but refusing to fully form. The familiarity was there, sharp and unsettling, brushing against her thoughts in a way that made her chest tighten.
