14

The reunion with Ethan was in that solemn courtroom. I was the plaintiff's lawyer, and he was standing in the dock. Recalling half a year ago, I was anxiously waiting for his call at home to ask when he would be home. Now, all this seems like a lifetime ago.

His company collapsed, and he was in debt. Even if he sold all his assets, he was powerless to recover. The anger of the creditors was like a volcanic eruption, pushing him to the defendant's seat in court. Ethan in front of me , with gray hair and blurred eyes, always lowered his head, as if all the vitality in his life had disappeared.

Until my voice sounded, he slowly raised his head and then stood up suddenly. I read out the prosecution's appeal, and the judge allowed him to respond. His voice trembled, his hands clenched into fists, and he kept muttering: "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it, I'm really sorry." The plaintiff roared angrily: "MD, you owe me tens of millions, and you want to let it go with a few words of apology?"