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Rohith was no stranger to challenges, but the backlash he faced for defending Nitish Reddy was unlike anything he had ever experienced. As a young and relatively unknown lawyer, Rohith had taken up Nitish's case not for fame but because he believed in his client's innocence. However, his decision had come at a significant personal and professional cost.

The media frenzy surrounding Nitish's trial had spilled over to Rohith's life. Social media, the very tool that often elevated voices, had turned into a platform for relentless criticism. Every move Rohith made, every statement he gave in defense of Nitish, was dissected and attacked. Trolls called him names, accusing him of defending a "criminal" for personal gain. Memes portraying him as a sellout circulated widely, further tarnishing his budding reputation.

On the streets, Rohith faced direct confrontation. People who once respected him now spat vitriol. Strangers would stop him, questioning his moral compass.

"How can you stand by someone accused of such a heinous crime?" an elderly woman asked him in a market, her voice trembling with anger.

"You're as guilty as he is for defending him!" shouted a man at a café where Rohith had gone for a brief respite.

Even within the legal community, Rohith's decision was met with skepticism. Senior lawyers who had once been mentors distanced themselves from him, unwilling to be associated with a case so steeped in controversy. His law firm, too, began to feel the pressure. Clients started pulling their cases, unwilling to have their legal matters handled by someone embroiled in such a high-profile scandal.

One afternoon, Rohith's senior partner called him into the office.

"Rohith, you're a bright lawyer," the partner said, his tone carefully measured. "But this case… it's bad for business. People don't want their cases handled by someone defending an alleged rapist."

Rohith felt a knot tighten in his stomach. "Sir, I believe in Nitish's innocence. The evidence doesn't add up, and I can't just abandon him."

The partner sighed. "I respect your conviction, but the firm has to think about its reputation. If you continue with this case, I'm afraid we can't keep you on."

Rohith walked out of the office that day with a heavy heart but no regrets. He couldn't let go of his belief in justice, even if it meant losing his job. The financial strain was immediate. Without a steady income, he struggled to pay his bills, and his modest apartment soon became a symbol of his fraying life—a stark contrast to the success he had once envisioned.

His personal life was no less affected. Friends who had once stood by him began to distance themselves, their support waning under the weight of public opinion. Even his family, who had initially been proud of his principles, grew worried.

"Rohith," his mother said one evening during a rare visit to their home, "why are you doing this? You're putting your career, your future, at risk for someone who might not even be innocent."

Rohith looked at her, his face tired but resolute. "Because, Amma, if I don't stand up for what I believe is right, what's the point of being a lawyer? Justice isn't about public opinion—it's about the truth."

His mother didn't respond but simply placed a hand on his shoulder, her worry etched into her face.

Despite the mounting pressure, Rohith refused to back down. He began preparing to appeal Nitish's conviction in the Supreme Court, knowing full well that it would be an uphill battle. The media continued to hound him, their questions relentless and their coverage skewed against Nitish.

On one particularly difficult day, a reporter cornered him outside the courthouse.

"Mr. Rohith," the reporter asked, microphone thrust in his face, "how do you justify defending a man who has been convicted of such a serious crime? Aren't you worried about the message you're sending?"

Rohith paused, his voice steady despite the chaos around him. "I am defending a man who, in my belief, has been wrongfully convicted. Everyone deserves a fair trial and the chance to appeal. Justice isn't about messages; it's about facts."

His words, though sincere, were drowned out by the noise of public outrage.

The decision to file an appeal in the Supreme Court brought a glimmer of hope. The court agreed to hear the case in 15 days, a timeline that was unusually swift given the backlog of cases. For Rohith, this was a small victory—a chance to present new evidence and challenge the narrative that had condemned Nitish.

In the days leading up to the hearing, Rohith immersed himself in preparation. He revisited every piece of evidence, every testimony, and every angle of the case. He worked late into the night, his apartment littered with files and notes. The CCTV footage from Ayesha's building remained a cornerstone of his defense, but he knew he needed more. He began reaching out to digital forensics experts to verify the authenticity of the footage, hoping to counter Ayesha's claim that it had been tampered with.

Rohith also focused on gathering character witnesses for Nitish—teammates, coaches, and friends who could testify to his integrity and behavior. It was a daunting task, as many were hesitant to publicly associate themselves with a man convicted of such serious charges. Still, a few came forward, their voices offering a small but significant counterpoint to the overwhelming tide of condemnation.

Amid the relentless work, Rohith found brief moments of solace in his meetings with Nitish at the prison. Despite the grim circumstances, Nitish remained stoic, his faith in Rohith unwavering.

"I'm sorry for what you're going through because of me," Nitish said during one visit, his voice heavy with guilt.

"You don't need to apologize," Rohith replied firmly. "This is bigger than both of us. It's about justice, and I won't stop until we get it."

The days leading up to the Supreme Court hearing were marked by a mixture of anticipation and dread. Rohith knew the odds were stacked against him, but he also knew that this was his chance to change the narrative. The case had become more than just about Nitish's innocence; it was about the integrity of the justice system itself.

As the hearing date approached, Rohith's resolve only strengthened. He was prepared to face the scrutiny, the criticism, and the backlash. For him, this was not just a case—it was a fight for truth, a battle to ensure that justice was not drowned out by the noise of public opinion.

On the morning of the hearing, as he stood outside the Supreme Court, Rohith took a deep breath. The crowd outside was massive, a mix of protesters, supporters, and media. The path ahead was daunting, but he stepped forward, ready to face whatever came next. This was his moment, and he was determined to make it count.