The sound of the gavel hitting the wood was the sweetest sound Elijah had ever heard. Instantly, the courtroom exploded. Sarah Cross burst into violent, heaving sobs, grabbing her son and burying her face in his cheap suit.
"You did it," she cried. "My baby, you saved us."
Elijah wrapped his arms around her, the cold, calculating genius melting away to reveal a son who was just relieved his mother was safe. "We're going home, Mom. We're going home."
Across the aisle, the scene was entirely different. Dana Pierce stood paralyzed. The predator had become the prey. Two court bailiffs, men who usually took her orders, approached her slowly.
"Ma'am," one of them said, his voice devoid of respect. "We're going to need you to step back from the table. The judge has ordered us to escort you to the holding area pending the federal investigators' arrival."
Pierce looked at Elijah. Her eyes were hollow, stripped of all arrogance. She had spent her entire career destroying people's lives for political points, using the law as a weapon. And in the end, it was the law, wielded by a boy she had mocked, that destroyed her. Karma hadn't just knocked; it had kicked the door off its hinges. She was led away in handcuffs, a final humiliating exit from the courtroom she used to rule.
When Elijah and Sarah walked out of the heavy double doors of the courtroom, they were blinded by the flash of cameras. The reporters who had come to watch a slaughter were now scrambling to get an interview with the prodigy who had just broken the system.
"Elijah! Elijah! How did you find the email?"