“I can read your mind,” said the girl.
The judge laughed—until she revealed his darkest secret.
The courtroom buzzed with uneasy murmurs. At the center stood a little Black girl, no more than eight years old. Her hair, in loose braids, framed a dirt-smudged face. Her blue jacket hung loosely over her frail shoulders, the sleeves frayed at the edges. Her bare feet made no sound as she stepped closer to the towering figure of Judge Randall.
The judge cleared his throat, gripping his gavel.
“Who brought this child here?”
“She asked for you,” the bailiff said nervously. “Sir, she wouldn’t speak to anyone else.”
Randall raised an eyebrow. “And why is that?”
The little girl lifted her chin and locked her big brown eyes on him. Because I can read your mind,” she said softly. The courtroom fell silent. Then laughter echoed from the rows of spectators. The judge let out a sharp chuckle and leaned back in…..Read Full Story Here.……………………
