Due Process

I’ll admit, I approached *Due Process* skeptical of yet another ‘ripped from the headlines’ campus assault story—but Pratt subverts expectations at every turn. The genius here isn’t the plot (which, yes, hinges on a familiar premise) but the *execution*. Joe Dillard is a defense attorney you’ll root for despite his flaws, a man who knows the system is broken but plays it anyway, and Pratt forces you to grapple with uncomfortable questions: Can justice exist when the deck is stacked? Is a ‘not guilty’ verdict the same as innocence? The trial scenes are masterclass tension, with Campbell’s narration elevating them to cinematic levels. His voice for the prosecutor—a smarmy, self-righteous foil—had me hissing at my headphones. That said, the audiobook isn’t perfect. The female characters occasionally feel like plot devices rather than fully realized people, and Pratt’s reliance on Dillard’s internal monologues to explain legal nuances can border on over-exposition. (We *get* it, Scott—contempt of court is bad.) The production itself is flawless, though: no distracting edits, no volume inconsistencies, just Campbell’s voice pulling you through like a current. At under six hours, it’s a binge in the best sense—short enough to devour in a weekend, but dense enough to linger in your mind for weeks. If you love your thrillers morally complex, legally precise, and narrated with the gravitas of a true-crime podcast’s darkest episode, this is your next listen.