Ava
Opening the door, the media crowd swarmed, and began shouting questions at us. As we began our trek to the front door, dozens of flashbulbs went off in our faces.
"Remember, keep your head down," Atticus whispered to me as we walked forward.
"Mr. Black, do you truly believe in light of the new evidence that Richard did not intend to kill his ex-girlfriend?"
"Mr. Black, do you think this be your first loss since opening your firm?"
"How do you think this case will affect race relations?"
The wall of guards parted, and we crossed over the threshold, finally safe from the prying eyes of the press. Moving into the house, it was madness. Files, papers and coffee cups were everywhere. His associates had been arguing with each other, however, they stopped their bickering the moment he entered.
"Where are we?" he said, taking off his Ralphet and throwing it onto the chair as if he owned the place.