Sera's POV
The courtroom went quiet the moment he walked in.
Not silent—alert.
The boy was small. Too small for the weight he carried. Fresh clothes, hospital band still on his wrist, eyes fixed on the floor like it might swallow him whole.
I stood beside him.
Avinash noticed first.
I saw it—the micro-freeze in his expression. The recalculation.
Arvind didn't react.
Which was worse.
Avinash's POV
That boy—
No.
Not possible.
She said recovering, not present.
I straightened my cuffs slowly, buying time. Fear is loud if you don't dress it well.
"Your Honour," I said smoothly, "I must object preemptively. This is a tactic. A prop."
The word prop echoed.
The boy flinched.
Sera's POV
I placed my hand gently on the boy's shoulder.
"Tell the court your name," I said softly.
He swallowed.
"I... I don't have one," he whispered.
Murmurs erupted.
The judge frowned. "Ms. Dutt, who is this child?"
"A witness," I said. "One who survived."
Courtroom – Rising Heat
Avinash stood immediately.
"Your Honour, this is highly irregular. No identification. No prior statement. No corroboration."
I didn't interrupt him.
I let him talk.
Men reveal fear by over-explaining.
"He claims to have been stabbed," Avinash continued, pacing. "Yet there is no registered complaint. No forensic linkage. No verified timeline."
He turned toward the boy.
"Tell me, son—why now?"
The boy's breathing quickened.
I stepped in.
"That's enough."
The judge raised a hand. "Ms. Dutt, the defense is correct on one matter. The credibility of this witness is... unclear."
The boy looked up at me.
Terrified.
Apologetic.
As if he was failing me.
Sera's POV (quietly, to the boy)
You're not the one on trial.
They are.
Sera to the Court
"This child," I said clearly, "was homeless. Invisible. Stabbed for seeing something he wasn't supposed to."
I turned slightly—just enough for Arvind to be in my peripheral vision.
"He was paid to forget," I added. "And nearly killed to ensure it."
Avinash scoffed lightly. "Allegations."
"Yes," I agreed. "But tell me—why would anyone stab a mute child?"
Silence.
Real silence.
Not procedural.
Human.
Arvind's POV
She's cornering the room emotionally.
This is dangerous—not legally, but socially.
The judge is watching the jury gallery now. The press.
I leaned toward Avinash. "End this."
Avinash's jaw tightened.
The Judge Speaks
"Ms. Dutt," the judge said slowly, "this court cannot accept testimony without verification. The witness is traumatized, inconsistent, and unidentifiable."
The boy's shoulders slumped.
I nodded.
"I understand, Your Honour."
Avinash exhaled—too audibly.
Then I added—
"But trauma doesn't make people lie," I said. "It makes them fragmented."
I turned to the judge.
"And fragmentation," I continued, "is not fabrication."
The judge studied me.
Longer this time.
Gaslighting Peaks
Avinash recovered. "Your Honour, the prosecution is manipulating sympathy to compensate for lack of evidence."
I smiled faintly.
"Funny," I said, "because manipulation usually requires control."
I looked at the boy again.
"He has none."
The judge's fingers tapped the bench.
Once.
Twice.
Verdict on the Moment
"The testimony," the judge finally said, "is inadmissible."
Avinash relaxed fully now.
Arvind smiled for the first time.
Then—
"However," the judge continued, "the court cannot ignore the direction this testimony suggests."
The room stiffened.
"I am granting the prosecution additional time," he said. "Final. One month."
A pause.
"Produce corroboration. Medical, circumstantial, or otherwise."
The gavel struck.
After Court – Hallway Collision
Avinash blocked my path.
"That was reckless," he said quietly. "Using a child."
I leaned in just enough for him to hear me alone.
"I didn't use him," I whispered. "I protected him."
Then softer—
"You're scared because he lived."
His eyes darkened.
Arvind's POV (watching her leave)
She has nothing.
And yet—
Why does it feel like we've already lost something?
Sera's POV
As I walked out, reporters shouting behind me, one thought looped in my head—
The boy didn't convince the judge.
But he rattled the men who matter.
And men like them don't fear courts.
They fear witnesses who refuse to die.