" You testified that your son was drafted for the NFL," Zara said, the tone of her voice changing from demanding to conversational. "Did he get his love of the sport from you?"
"I played in college," the witness said. "Wide receiver. I was a lock for a top-ten draft selection until I tore a ligament and that was the end for me."
"You must have caught some good ones in your time." Now her voice was all warmth and sympathy, tinged with awe.
The witness's eyes grew misty. "I miss those days."
Plaintiff's counsel objected on the basis of irrelevance, and the judge sustained. Zara walked back to her table and consulted her notes.
Was that it? He'd been expecting some theatrics, a smoking gun, or even a witness reduced to tears. Even without any legal training, he could see her cross-examination hadn't elicited any particularly useful information, and yet she didn't seem perturbed.
Zara bent down to grab something from her bag. "Hut!" She spun around and threw a foam football at the plaintiff, her shout echoing through the courtroom, freezing everyone in place.
The plaintiff shot out of his seat and took two steps to the side, hands in the air. "I got it. I got it." With a jump he grabbed the football and held it up, victorious. His smile faded as he stared at the stunned crowd, clearly realizing what he'd just done.
"Objection." Plaintiff's counsel glared at Zara. "What was that?"
"I believe it's called a Hail Mary pass." Zara smiled at the judge. "No further questions. "

― Sara Desai , The Singles Table (Marriage Game, #3)