Ten minutes passed.
"Back on the record," Tolbert said, tapping the gavel. "Mr. Carrington, you may proceed with any remaining witnesses or statements."
Elijah rose. He did not hurry. He took a breath, placed one final document in front of him, and looked directly at the judge.
"No more witnesses, Your Honor. Only a question for the court."
Tolbert lifted his chin slightly. "Go ahead."
Elijah stepped forward. "What happens when the system makes a mistake and no one says anything?"
The judge did not answer.
"What happens when a person is arrested, not because of what he did, but because of who someone thinks he is?"
The room remained silent.
"I have read a great deal of case law, Your Honor, more than most people my age. I have read your rulings too. From 2003 until now, you have sentenced men like my brother to ten years for first-time offenses. You have rejected motions for mistrial because you found insufficient cause. But I read one case from 2009, State v. Larrabee. Do you remember that one?"
Tolbert's face twitched, barely. "Of course."
Elijah nodded. "Then you remember the witness who changed her statement and the missing dash-camera footage. You still allowed the case to go to trial, and that man was convicted."
Tolbert cut in. "That case was reviewed and closed."
Elijah did not retreat. "It was overturned four years later, after the man had already lost his family, his job, and everything else."