do. If you go up and get sent back
down here, your life will never be
the same.”
Up in the courtroom, I found
my lawyer waiting. My cousin
Mlungisi was there, too, in the
gallery, ready to post my bail if
things went my way.
The bailiff read out my case
number, and the judge looked up at
me.
“How are you?” he said.
I broke down. I’d been putting
on this tough-guy facade for nearly
a week, and I just couldn’t do it
anymore.
“I-I’m not fine, Your Honor.