CHAPTER 18
The ancient stone building rose against a gray backdrop, making it more depressing than imposing. Enormous concrete pillars reminded me of how small and insignificant I was in the grand scheme of things. Only the red, white, and blue on the flagpole cut through the dreariness.
Here’s to truth, justice, and the American way.
Whoever built the Monmouth County Courthouse put a space between “court” and “house,” reminding me that this particular building likely stood in this spot for about three hundred years. I wondered what our forefathers would say about the internet and revenge p**n. Did they make nude drawings of their wives and girlfriends that they shared with friends when angry? Somehow, I suspected not. Maybe advances in technology were impeding, not enhancing, social pr
