“Ms. Valenca,” Roma’s delivery carrying that dangerous warmth. “Would you like to begin?”

The first potential juror, Angelita Vinhyame, sat with the kind of perfect posture that spoke of years in customer service. Her cardigan was meticulously buttoned, hands folded precisely in her lap as she met Juniper’s gaze with practiced pleasantness.

“Good morning, Mrs. Vinhyame,” Juniper began, matching the woman’s polite demeanor. “Could you tell us about your experience with community organizations?”

“Oh, I’ve been quite involved,” Mrs. Vinhyame brightened, her accent warming as she leaned forward slightly. “Twenty years with Night Baptist’s outreach program, and I serve on the neighborhood council.” Her smile remained fixed, but her fingers twisted her wedding ring – a subtle tell Juniper had learned to watch for.