When asked if he wished to speak before sentencing, Ryan leaned into the microphone, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
Gasps rippled through the room. The prosecutor shook her head, disgusted. Even Ryan’s public defender dropped his eyes in embarrassment.
Judge Whitmore’s jaw tightened. He had seen arrogance before, but Ryan’s defiance bordered on open mockery.
“Mr. Cooper,” the judge said sternly, “you think the law is a game. You think your age shields you from consequences. But I assure you, you are standing on the edge of a cliff.”
Ryan shrugged. “Cliffs don’t scare me.”
A Voice From the Gallery
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