A CAST OF PAIN (Closed For Editing)

Chapter Eleven

"Ladies and gentlemen, the day we've all eagerly awaited," began the broadcaster, a spirited woman in her early thirties, her vibrant voice resonating through the surroundings.

"As you can see, I'm here at the courthouse, and it's teeming with citizens eager to witness whether justice will indeed prevail. Will justice have the final say? Will the young Barrister secure victory and confound her critics?
......

Numerous television networks are airing the live courtroom proceedings, with viewers across homes and workplaces eagerly tuned in.

The broadcaster continued, adopting a news anchor's intonation, "Here on the courthouse premises, I'm joined by Barrister Joseph Omodehinde, the stalwart defense counsel, fully prepared to uphold his client's cause. However... the pressing question lingers, where is the prosecuting counsel, Barrister Akorede Williams?"

Inside the bustling hospital, Lawrence and Florence occupied a small office, their eyes locked onto the television screen broadcasting the news.

"I hope she wins," Lawrence murmured, his gaze fixed on the unfolding events.

Florence turned slowly, her expression a mix of curiosity and something bordering on contempt. "Do you know her?"

"I wish I did," Lawrence replied, still engrossed in the TV.

Florence, skeptical as ever, continued, "Besides, the court proceedings haven't even started yet."

"But I genuinely hope she wins," Lawrence replied, a note of determination in his voice. "She does look familiar though."

"Who?" Florence almost shouted, unable to contain her curiosity.

"Yes, who?" Paul asked as he walked into the room and made his way to his seat.

"Well, apparently, she's not on the court grounds yet," Lawrence answered, a worried furrow on his forehead. He felt an unusual chill despite the warmth of his shoes.

"More like she chickened out," Florence added sharply before Paul could react.

Paul, trying to ease the tension, said with clasped hands, "Hmm, she must be nervous," hoping his own nervousness didn't betray him. "I mean, who isn't? I'm not even in her shoes, and my palms are already sweaty." He held up his hands to show them.

"Yeah, me too," Lawrence chimed in. "But, I do hope she wins."

"I doubt she wins," Florence stated bluntly, not lifting her head from her task. Her words dripped with venom, and Paul and Lawrence turned to her almost in unison.

"Why?" Paul's voice barely rose above a whisper.

"Because the battle she's fighting is beyond her. It's a whole senator we're talking about here."

"So?" Lawrence countered.

"So, who knows? Her absence could be for three reasons: first, she chickened out and chose safety, like I said earlier. Second, the judicial body might not be as independent as we think, and they've manipulated the judge to obstruct justice. Or third, she might have been... murdered."

Paul felt his heart skip a beat, and he shuddered at the mere thought of Kore meeting such a fate. Lawrence's unease mirrored his own, but Florence continued, seemingly oblivious to the fear she'd instilled in her colleagues.

"Her opponents are so bold, can't you see? Besides, I don't think she's that tough. I mean, forget about any softness on her face; she's nothing but a bluff."

A heavy silence filled the room, interrupted only by the low hum of the fridge. Lawrence exchanged a questioning look with Paul, who responded with a perplexed shrug, their silent communication speaking volumes.