Juniper’s fingers drummed an anxious rhythm against the counsel table. “Did you hear that crowd out there? Even through these walls…” She shook her head. “They must be freezing. The storm’s only getting worse.”

“I saw them passing out hot chocolate earlier,” Sophia commented without looking up from her tablet. “At least the holiday vendors are making the best of it.”

The gentle whoosh of the courtroom doors marked another cycle of spectators seeking refreshments or relief. Each time they opened, a burst of noise from the lobby would filter in - murmured conversations, rustling papers, the occasional muffled laugh. The atmosphere wavered between tense anticipation and strange intimacy, as if they were all sharing some peculiar holiday vigil.