Gerald and Clifford met in the Supreme Court's interrogation room. They sat across from each other, an old wooden table between them. Carissa sat behind the scribe's desk, not far from them. Even if they spoke in hushed tones, she could hear every word clearly.The only sounds in the room were the quiet rustle of breath, the steady beat of hearts, and occasionally, the almost imperceptible sound of a sigh.Yet, no words passed between them.Neither of them exchanged even a fleeting glance. It was as if they were two strangers who were forced to sit together—distant, indifferent.Carissa wondered if it was her presence that made things so strained, though she could not leave. All she could do was endure the awkward silence alongside them.At last, Gerald asked, "Why?"Gerald was truly baffled, struggling to reconcile the person before him with the image of someone he thought he knew. No matter how he looked at Clifford, he could not align the two.Clifford clasped his hands tog
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