Fourteen Years and a Single Ledger from the Autumn Election

The judge looked at the blue binder for a long moment, then turned her gaze to Pras.

“Mr. Michel, do you have anything you wish to add to your counsel’s statement?” she asked.

Pras stood up slowly, his fingers releasing his silver ring.

“No, Your Honor,” he said, his cadence soft and deliberate. “My counsel has expressed our position continue reading …