Ava gave them no permission to turn her courtroom into an extension of the steps.

At one point, an attorney glanced toward the scratched purse resting beneath the bench.

Ava noticed.

She did not acknowledge it.

During a short recess, Amanda entered chambers carrying a stack of messages.

She placed them on the desk.

Ava did not look up immediately.

“How bad?”

Amanda hesitated.

“That depends on what you mean.”

“The cameras.”

Amanda exhaled.

“Bad for him.”

Ava closed the file.

“How much is online?”

“All of it.”

“All?”

“The grab. The purse. The wallet. The clerk coming outside. Everything.”

Ava leaned back.

Amanda added, “There are at least six angles.”

“I only saw three cameras.”

“Phones.”

“Of course.”

Amanda placed another slip of paper on the stack.

“Courthouse administration wants to know whether you want Officer Daniels removed from duty immediately.”

Ava’s gaze lifted.

“That is not my decision.”

“They’re asking because—”

“Because I’m the person he grabbed.”

“And because you’re a judge.”

“That makes it more important that it isn’t my decision.”

Amanda nodded slowly.

“They also asked whether you want to make a statement.”

“No.”

“Press is gathering downstairs.”

“No.”

“The chief administrator asked if you want Daniels kept away from this floor.”

Ava considered that.

“Yes.”

Amanda blinked.

Ava clarified.

“Not as punishment. I don’t want contact with him while whatever review is required begins.”

“I’ll tell them.”

“And Amanda?”

“Yes?”

“Ask them to preserve every courthouse security recording from the entrance.”

Amanda’s expression sharpened.

“Already done, I think.”

“Think isn’t the same as know.”

“I’ll confirm.”

“Also preserve the incident log.”

Amanda paused.

Ava saw the question.

“Judge—”

“If there is a process, we use it.”

Amanda nodded.

“No special route?”

“No special route.”

She picked up the next file.

“Especially not for me.”

Outside the courthouse, Raymond Daniels stood in a windowless security office and watched himself become someone he barely recognized.

A supervisor had removed him from the entrance fifteen minutes after Ava went inside.

Not suspended.

Not yet.

Just reassigned pending a report.

Daniels had spent the first ten minutes telling himself that the situation looked worse on video than it had felt in real life.

Then he saw the first video.

He watched himself step into Ava’s path.

Watched his hand close around her arm.

Watched the purse fall.

Watched her belongings scatter.

He leaned closer to the screen.

“That’s not what happened.”

The second officer from the steps stood near the wall.

Neither man spoke.

Daniels pointed at the screen.

“She pulled the bag when I tried to check it.”

The second officer looked at him.

“No, she didn’t.”

Daniels turned.

“What?”

“You took it.”

“I was trying to verify her identification.”

“You took it.”

The supervisor raised a hand.

“That’s enough.”

Daniels looked back at the screen.

The video continued.

He saw his shoe push the wallet.

His stomach tightened.

He had forgotten about that.

Or he had convinced himself it had happened differently.

The supervisor paused the video.

“You need to write an incident report.”

Daniels stared at the frozen image of his shoe beside Ava’s wallet.

“She was refusing instructions.”

“Write what happened.”

“She was refusing a lawful security instruction.”

The supervisor did not respond.

Daniels heard accusation in the silence.

“You think I knew she was a judge?”

“No one said you did.”

“I didn’t.”

“No one said you did.”

Daniels leaned back.

“That matters.”

The second officer shifted against the wall.

Daniels pointed at him.

“Tell him.”

The officer frowned.

“Tell him what?”

“She wouldn’t identify herself.”

“She said she had ID.”

“She didn’t show it.”

“You grabbed her before she could.”

Daniels stood.

“That is not what happened.”

The supervisor’s voice hardened.

“Sit down.”

Daniels remained standing for another second.

Then he sat.

The supervisor slid a blank incident form across the desk.

“Write it while it’s fresh.”

Daniels looked at the paper.

Something had begun inside him that he did not yet have a name for.

It was not remorse.

Not fully.

It was the terror of losing control of the story.

He picked up a pen.

At 11:03, Ava finished the morning calendar.

When she returned to chambers, Amanda was waiting.

“Administration wants to see you.”

“When?”

“Whenever you’re ready.”

Ava removed her glasses.

“That usually means now.”

Amanda gave a tired smile.

“Pretty much.”

Ava looked toward the purse.

“Has anyone touched the security footage?”

“Preserved.”

“Incident log?”

“Preserved.”

“Witness names?”

“Security has started collecting them.”

“Good.”

Amanda stayed by the desk.

“There’s something else.”

Ava waited.

“The officer filed his report.”

Ava’s face did not change.

“Why is that something else?”

Amanda hesitated.

“Because someone upstairs read it.”

“And?”

“He says you became confrontational.”

Ava said nothing.

“He says you refused repeated security instructions, resisted a bag inspection, and dropped your own belongings during the interaction.”

The room became very quiet.

Amanda continued more carefully.

“He says any contact was necessary to maintain the restricted perimeter.”

Ava looked down at the scratch on the purse.

For the first time all morning, anger arrived cleanly.

Not heat.

Not outrage.

Clarity.

“What does he say about the wallet?”

Amanda swallowed.

“Nothing.”

“The grab?”

“He describes it as guiding you away from the entrance.”

“The clerk?”

“He says your judicial status was unknown to him until after the interaction ended.”

“That part is true.”

Amanda stared at her.

“You’re giving him that?”

“I’m giving the report what is true.”

Ava stood.

“Bring me a copy.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Amanda left.

Ava walked to the window.

From this height, she could see the edge of the press barricades below. Umbrellas clustered on the sidewalk like dark circles.

She had expected denial.

People protected themselves.

What unsettled her was not that Daniels had tried to explain his conduct.

It was that he had converted her behavior into something it had never been.

Confrontational.

Resistant.

Uncooperative.

Words that could turn video into argument if repeated often enough.

She thought about the way he had looked at her before he knew her name.

Then she thought about the way his face had changed afterward.

That was the part she could not ignore.

If the clerk had not come outside, what version of the morning would be sitting in an incident file now?

Amanda returned and placed the report on the desk.

Ava read it once.

Then again.

The second reading took longer.

Daniels’s language was careful.

He had not written anything spectacularly false.

That almost made it worse.

He used bureaucratic phrases.

“Subject failed to comply.”

“Subject attempted to retain personal property during inspection.”

“Subject verbally challenged officer direction.”

“Minimal physical guidance employed.”

“Items fell during exchange.”

Each sentence contained enough truth to be defensible if separated from what the cameras showed.

Together, they created a different event.

Amanda watched her.

“What are you thinking?”

Ava turned the last page.

“That he had time to write this after seeing the video.”

“You know that?”

“I know they showed him at least one recording.”

Amanda’s eyes narrowed.

“How?”

“Administration called before the report was complete. They told me he was being interviewed with video.”