As the meeting approached, the tension grew.
I was called in, my heart pounding.
The room was filled with faces, each one focused, intent.
Testimonies were given, facts presented.
The girl’s story was recounted, each word carrying weight.
I spoke when asked, careful, measured.
My words felt small amidst the legal jargon and procedural talk.
But they listened, taking notes, nodding occasionally.
Outside, the girl waited, her future hanging in balance.
After what felt like hours, the meeting ended.
