“That is all for now,” Roma concluded with quiet poise, turning away from the witness stand. As he walked back to his seat, his movements mirrored those of a conductor whose orchestra played each note with the precision of a metronome ironically at the relentless timing of something running on a clock cycle rather than a heartbeat.

As Ms. Rivera made her way back to her seat, her steps measured and deliberate, the courtroom’s atmosphere shifted, thickening. Juniper and her team exchanged uneasy glances, their hearts sinking as they noticed the empty chair where Martinez should have been. Kenery sat alone, his expression inscrutable, leaving them to wonder what urgent matter had pulled their colleague away at such a crucial moment.

The air wound tighter. Roma, standing beside his female associate, apparently had one last coming attraction… the kind the court would struggle to strike from the record. Suddenly broke into a series of spastic movements, his arms flailing in a poor imitation of a flat handed breakdancing mime of sorts. His voice, a comical attempt at a robotic tone, was barely audible as he muttered, “Domo arigato.” The words, though not intended for public consumption, somehow managed to reach a few attentive ears in the gallery.

Heads began to turn, curious gazes drawn to the spectacle of Roma’s impromptu performance. Confusion and disbelief etched across the faces of those who had caught sight of his antics, while others remained oblivious, their attention still focused on the proceedings.

Roma, seemingly unconcerned by the growing attention, continued his silent comedy routine. He jerked his body in exaggerated motions, his limbs moving in a bizarre approximation of a malfunction. His face contorted into a series of comical expressions, his eyebrows waggling and his mouth twisting into a goofy grin.

Juniper’s eyes widened, her expression morphing from confusion to incredulity as she watched Roma’s display. She glanced around the courtroom, gauging the reactions of the other attendees.