Chapter Text
It was a cold night in Gotham City, the city of uncontrollable crime. There was so much a buzz in the city that never sleeps, especially at Gotham's Courthouse as lawyers and reporters hurried to trials and conversations.
Harvey Dent, the 'White Knight' of Gotham, was on his way to the trial of the century against the one known as Sal Maroni, having just stopped for a cup of an Americano before.
"Mr. Dent! It's good to see!" Someone's voice cut Harvey's thoughts to black. He looked up in front of him and saw John Smith, a junior lawyer, approach him.
"John, a pleasure. How are you?" Harvey asked as he shook hands with John.
"Oh, you know, still getting the hang of being a lawyer, but did you hear this news article from yesterday?"
Harvey quirked an eyebrow and looked confused at John. "What news article?"
"I read it, and it's about this man, Mr. David Johnson, 50 years old, who had a heart attack but listen to this, after some minutes, he fully recovered. Doctors said it was a miracle. They said that he was well and was able to walk just fine as if nothing had happened yesterday evening." John explained to Harvey as he genuinely thought things like this could happen naturally.
Harvey, on the other hand, scoffed. He didn't believe the article one bit nor that David Johnson's health was any better. Miracle? Highly unlikely.
"A miracle, huh? Don't believe everything you read, John. A man's heart gives out once. It can give out again. The man is in his 50s. He's not that strong — he's fragile. You'll soon see what I mean. He'll be in and out of the hospital for the rest of his life, hooked up to machines and whatnot."
He glanced at John with that knowing and charming smile of his, which made passerby swoon and convicted criminals sweat.
Harvey then checked his wristwatch. It was time for the trial to begin.
"Anyway, let's forget about Mr. Johnson, and let's have a clean and honest trial, shall we?"
Harvey asked John as they climbed the final stairs of the courthouse.
John nodded, and Harvey pushed through the heavy double doors, his stride unshaken as if nothing could ruin this very moment of his.