The weight of dingy fluorescent light

I keep thinking about the courthouse hallway after the verdict, the way the fluorescent lights sounded — that low hum you only notice when the room has emptied out. The client's hands were still on the table, knuckles white, like he was holding onto something that had already left. I went home and ground coffee too fine, just to have a task that wouldn't argue back. Evidence is supposed to be the thing that settles you, but it's never the whole story, is it? Idk. Some nights the silence just presses in.