Fourteen Years and a Single Ledger from the Autumn Election

his eyes remaining calm and distant as they had throughout the entire eight-month trial.

“No, Your Honor,” Pras said, his soft, deliberate cadence carrying clearly to the back row of the gallery. “I have nothing to add to the record today.”

The judge nodded once, her black robe rustling as she stood up and walked toward her private chambers. The bailiff continue reading …