The courtroom smelled like old wood and fear, and Javier couldn't stop shaking.
He sat on the hard bench next to Leo, his hands folded in his lap, his knee bouncing. The room was small, packed with people he didn't know—lawyers, court officers, a judge in a black robe. Derek sat at the defendant's table, his head down, his hands cuffed. His parents sat behind him, her face pale, his jaw tight.
Leo put his hand on Javier's shoulder. “You don't have to do this.”
“I know.”
“You can wait outside.”
“I know.”
“Then why are you here?”
Javier looked at Derek. At the kid who'd sent the letters. The kid who'd threatened him. The kid who'd been cut from the team two years ago and had never let go of the anger.
“Because I need to see his face,” Javier said. “I need to remember that he's human.
