Yet, the judge’s curiosity was piqued. He leaned forward slightly, intrigued by the boldness of the child’s claim.
“And how would you do that?” he asked, his voice a mixture of disbelief and curiosity.
The girl took a deep breath, her small hands clasped in front of her. “I have a gift,” she said simply. “My father says it’s a miracle.”
The judge’s expression softened for a moment, a fleeting thought crossing his mind—what if?
The people in the courtroom were no longer laughing. Instead, they watched with a mixture of skepticism and intrigue.
The little girl approached the bench, her steps steady and confident. As she stood before the judge, there was a palpable tension in the air.
“May I?” she asked softly, gesturing toward his legs.
Hesitantly, the judge nodded, allowing her to approach closer than anyone else had. She knelt down, placing her small hands gently on his knees.
For a moment, nothing happened. The courtroom held its collective breath, the only sound the ticking of the clock on the wall.
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