Ethan’s mother sat trembling in the back row, wringing her hands in silent despair. His father hadn’t bothered to show up at all.
As the prosecutor listed the charges, Ethan rolled his eyes, tapping his foot against the floor like he couldn’t wait to be somewhere else. When Judge Harmon asked him for his plea, his voice dripped with arrogance.
The judge’s brows arched. She had seen plenty of arrogance before, but Ethan’s indifference struck a nerve. This was a boy who thought the world owed him something, a boy who thought stealing was a harmless game.
“Mr. Miller,” she said evenly, “you think this is funny? You think stealing from hardworking people is a joke?”
Ethan smirked wider. “It’s just a store. They can afford it.”
The courtroom murmured in disbelief. His mother buried her face in her hands. Judge Harmon, however, remained calm—her silence heavier than any shout could have been.
An Unusual Sentence
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