CHAPTER 6: When the Cap Hit the Tile

The room made one sound together.
Not a scream. Not applause. A single inhaled breath from a hundred people realizing the morning had escaped the script.
Holt landed hard enough to lose dignity, not consciousness. His cap spun across the tile and stopped beside the wooden divider. His hand went to his ribs. His eyes held shock, pain, and a child's disbelief that the world had refused to kneel on command.
Elara remained standing.
She did not run. She did not smile. She did not lift her hands in triumph for the cameras already turning toward her.
She stepped back only far enough to give him space and said, calmly, He attempted unlawful contact after I requested documentation.
The court clerk, who had been ignored all morning, looked at the recording device on her desk and quietly pressed the backup button.
That small movement would matter later.
Mayor Rusk slammed his palm near the microphone. Arrest her.
No one moved.
The only uniformed man in immediate reach was still on the floor, staring at the woman he had been sent to remove.