TWO COCKY OFFICERS DRAGGED ME INTO A SHADOWY BASEMENT AND SHAVED MY HEAD TO UTTERLY DISGRACE ME BEFORE MY MOST IMPORTANT DAY. THEY BELIEVED I WAS ONLY A POWERLESS WOMAN THEY COULD CRUSH WITHOUT EFFORT. BUT THEIR SMUG GRINS DISAPPEARED THE SECOND THEY ENTERED THE COURTROOM AND REALIZED WHO WAS WEARING THE JUDGE’S ROBE…

“Judge Brooks… my god. We need to go to the hospital. We need the FBI.”

“We have a trial to begin, Maya,” I said, my voice eerily calm.

I washed the blood from my neck in the private bathroom sink.

I refused to wear a wrap.

I refused to hide what they had done.

I slipped the heavy, black silk robe over my shoulders, feeling the immense weight of the federal judiciary settle onto my frame.

At precisely 9:00 AM, the bailiff’s voice rang through Courtroom 302.

“All rise! The United States District Court is now in session, the Honorable Judge Valerie Brooks presiding.”

The heavy oak doors of the judge’s chambers swung open.

I walked up the steps to the bench.

The courtroom was packed.

Reporters, union reps, and a gallery full of citizens.

The room was a sea of murmuring voices, the air thick with the scent of polished wood and nervous anticipation.