“Him!”

The boy’s finger locked on the older man.

The courtroom fell dead silent.

For one terrible second, nobody moved. The older man just stood there, his hand still half-raised from trying to stop the child, his face draining of color.

The maid’s sob caught in her throat.

The boy stumbled one step back, breathing hard, but he did not lower his hand.

“He pushed her,” he said, voice shaking. “She tried to stop him from hurting me.”

A murmur broke through the gallery. Spectators leaned forward, stunned, trying to process what they had just heard.

The older man forced a smile that looked ugly and weak.

“He’s confused,” he snapped. “He’s a frightened child.”

The boy’s eyes filled even more.

“I’m not confused,” he whispered.

Then he reached into his pocket with shaking fingers and pulled out a dark polished button.

It trembled in his hand.

“It came off when he grabbed me.”

All eyes dropped to the older man’s jacket.

One button was missing.

The maid covered her mouth again, crying harder now, because the truth she had tried to bury was standing in front of everyone.

The older man took a step back.

The boy looked at the maid, devastated.

“She told me to run,” he said. “She said if I stayed, he’d hurt me too.”

That destroyed the room.

The maid folded into herself, sobbing openly. The spectators stared at the older man with growing horror. The power he had walked in with was gone now, stripped away by a child who had decided fear was no longer heavier than guilt.

The judge leaned forward sharply.

And for the first time since the maid had been dragged to the center of that courtroom, she was no longer standing there alone.

The boy looked at her through tears and said the one thing she had not expected anyone to give her.

“I won’t let them blame you anymore.”