As Daniel spoke, Juniper fought to regain her composure, silently chastising herself for underestimating Roma’s formidable courtroom presence.

Roma’s smirk widened slightly as he pressed further, his voice dripping with condescension. “I call a strike a strike and these numbers don’t paint the full picture they propose, in fact, they’re about as comprehensive as a child’s finger painting hanging on my refrigerator.” He paused, letting the belittling comparison sink in. “Colorful, perhaps, but hardly representative of the complex reality we’re dealing with here.”

The jab hung in the air, its sting palpable. Several members of the gallery shifted uncomfortably, while others tried to suppress their reactions to Roma’s cutting remark. The comparison not only dismissed the validity of the defense’s data but also seemed to infantilize their entire approach, further unsettling Juniper and adding to the mounting pressure she felt.

Daniel, feeling the weight of Roma’s insinuations, replied with restrained frustration. “Yeah, this guy is a complete menace,” he admitted quietly, a flicker of annoyance passing over his face.

The tension in the courtroom was thick, the room shifting uncomfortably as they grappled with the conflicting narratives. Juniper’s thoughts churned, ruminating on every misstep.