The Millionaire’s Daughter Raised Her Phone in Court… and the Judge Turned White Before He Could Send You to Prison

It is small, almost polite, but it slices the room open.

Every head turns.

Alma is standing.

Her school shoes are shiny black. Her knees are trembling, though she is trying very hard not to let anyone see it. One of the bailiffs takes a step toward her, perhaps to sit her down, perhaps to hush her before whatever rich-child discomfort she is feeling becomes an inconvenience to the process.

But Alma raises her chin.