The side doors opened with a soft, official click. Two guards stepped back and the Alzeras family moved forward together, not hurried, not theatrical. They wore the plain clothes of people who had never needed to make an entrance: a worn wool coat, a sensible dress, a boy's school blazer with a scuffed elbow. They carried themselves as if they had come to speak plainly, nothing more.
They paused at the foot of the stage. The father set his hands on the back of a chair for a moment, steadying himself, then looked up at the crowd. He did not search for sympathy. He did not ask for attention. He simply began.
