Chapter 11: The Boy with the Compass**
After the recess, Marcus Vance made an unexpected request: “Your Honor, Toby Evans wishes to speak to you in chambers. Not under pressure, but to share his own truth.”
Judge Hastings agreed despite violent protests from Ross.
Inside the quiet, book-lined judicial chambers, Toby sat in an oversized leather chair. His small legs swung gently above the carpet. Judge Hastings removed his black robe, sitting across from the boy with a warm, disarming smile.
“Toby, you don’t have to be afraid,” the judge said gently. “I just want to know how you feel.”
Toby opened his palm, revealing the scratched brass compass. “My dad gave me this before he went to the hospital. He told me a compass always points north, no matter how stormy the weather gets.”
“And who is your north, Toby?”
Toby looked through the glass window toward the hallway where Clara stood waiting patiently. “My mom. When Grandmother Eleanor told me I was useless because I couldn’t clean the big house, my mom stood up for me. Grandmother’s house is big and pretty, but it feels like a refrigerator. Mom’s house is small, but it’s warm.”
Toby looked up, his hazel eyes completely clear. “Grandmother thinks money buys people. But my mom says love is free, and that’s why we’re rich.”
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Judge Hastings closed his notebook, a profound look of clarity washing over his weathered face.
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