Adrian leaned back slightly against the leather chair. The bailiff’s anger did not stem from anything Adrian had actually done. That much was brutally obvious. It came entirely from the picture Keller believed he was seeing: a Black man in a hoodie sitting in a place of supreme authority. Every calm, rational answer Adrian gave was being forcefully crammed into that prejudiced framework.
"I asked how you entered," Keller demanded.
"I used my court access card."
"Show it to me."
"It is in chambers with my wallet."
"Convenient," Keller sneered.
"I can retrieve it."
"Do not move toward chambers."
Adrian paused, allowing a beat of silence to highlight the contradiction. "You have ordered me to leave the chair while also ordering me not to move."
"Stand up and walk toward me."
"Why?"
"So I can detain you."
"For what offense?"
"Trespassing."
"I have authorized access."
"We will determine that after you are restrained."
Adrian’s gaze dropped to the bailiff’s right hand. It had unclasped the pouch on his belt and moved closer to his steel cuffs. "Is that your standard procedure?"
Keller gave a harsh, humorless laugh. "My standard procedure is to remove people who don’t belong here."
Adrian let the words settle in the empty air. "People who don't belong."
"You heard me," Keller pressed.
"I did."
Keller took another aggressive step forward. "Get out of that chair, boy."
The word instantly changed the atmospheric pressure in the room.
Adrian had been called many things during his long career in law. Overly ambitious. Too young. Too sympathetic to defendants. Too aggressive with prosecutors. But boy carried its own ugly, undeniable history. It was not an accidental word between two adult men.
Adrian’s voice dropped an octave, becoming dangerously quiet. "Do not call me that again."
Keller smirked, feeling he had finally struck a nerve. "You going to tell me how to speak now?"
"I am telling you how you will address me."
"You have no authority over me."
Adrian looked up toward the golden state seal mounted on the wood paneling above his head. "Are you certain?"
Keller’s face hardened into a mask of pure authority. "Stand up."
Adrian did not flinch. He did not move.
The bailiff reached for his shoulder radio. "Control, I have an unauthorized male inside Courtroom Four."
The radio crackled to life, echoing loudly in the cavernous room. A dispatcher’s voice filtered through. "Description?"
Keller looked directly into Adrian's eyes. "Black male. Approximately forty. Wearing a dark hoodie and sweatpants. Acting hostile."
Adrian raised one eyebrow. "I am sitting down."
Keller ignored him, speaking back into the mic. "Possibly entered through a restricted area. Refusing lawful instructions. Requesting an officer."