For the first time since the trial had begun, I felt the momentum shift.
It was subtle—barely noticeable—but it was there.
Elias had been confident. Too confident. His answers were clean, precise, and calculated.
But I had caught something.
That one moment.
When I had asked where exactly Mr. Fox had been, he had paused before answering.
It was small—maybe less than a second—but it told me everything I needed to know.
He was thinking about it.
Not reciting from a script. Not recalling a memorized lie.
He had been there.
Which meant that at some point during the chaos—he was in the same location that Mr. Fox had been previously.
But I didn't need to prove that.
I just needed to prove that Elias was lying. That while Mr. Fox was there, Elias wasn't there at that moment.
I locked eyes with him, keeping my voice measured.