Someone with high-level access.
She wrote down the account number.
Then she heard footsteps.
Victor Hale appeared beside her desk.
“What are you doing?”
Lydia closed the archive.
“Checking the exhibit.”
“You were told to leave it alone.”
Lydia looked at him.
“I was told nothing.”
Victor's expression changed.
“The judge wants the exhibit preserved exactly as submitted.”
“Then preservation shouldn't be a problem.”
He stared at her.
Lydia smiled politely.
“Unless there is something wrong with it.”
For several seconds, neither spoke.
Finally Victor said:
“Be careful, Ms. Chen.”
Then he walked away.
Lydia watched him disappear.
She waited.
Then she reopened the archive.
The privileged account was still there.
She copied it.
And beneath the account number was another piece of information.
A device identifier.
Lydia leaned closer.
The device was not registered to the prosecutor's office.
It belonged to the courthouse.
Specifically—
Judicial Administration.
Lydia's face went pale.
Mara sat alone in the courthouse holding room.
The fluorescent light above her buzzed.
Her wrists were still cuffed.
Travis Cole stood outside the bars.
“You've been quiet.”
Mara looked up.
“I've been thinking.”
“About your case?”
“No.”
She looked at the clock.
“About the audit trail.”
Travis sighed.
“You really don't know when to stop.”
Mara smiled.
“Neither does whoever changed that file.”
Travis crossed his arms.
“You think this is some kind of movie?”
“No.”
“Because you're acting like the whole courthouse is part of a conspiracy.”
“I haven't said conspiracy.”
“You don't have to.”
Mara leaned back.
“I said the evidence was altered.”
“And what if you're wrong?”
“Then I'll be embarrassed.”
Travis smiled.
“And if you're right?”
Mara looked directly at him.
“Then somebody in this building committed a very serious offense.”
Travis's smile disappeared.
Mara had spent fifteen years working with digital evidence.
She understood something most people didn't.
Deleting a file didn't make it disappear.
Changing a timestamp didn't erase the old timestamp.
Replacing a video didn't erase the original hash.
Digital systems remembered.
They remembered users.
Devices.
Times.
Locations.
Authentication tokens.
And most importantly—
they remembered what administrators thought they had successfully hidden.
Mara closed her eyes.
She didn't know who had altered Exhibit 17.
But she knew someone had.
And she knew Lydia Chen was smart enough to find the trail.
The only question was whether Lydia would be allowed enough time to follow it.
At 3:04 p.m., Lydia received a message.
Do not access Exhibit 17 again.
No signature.
No explanation.
She stared at the screen.
Then another message appeared.
This is an administrative directive.
Lydia looked around the clerk's office.
Nobody was watching.
She saved both messages.
Then she forwarded them to a secure archive.
A minute later, her phone rang.
It was Mara's attorney.
“Lydia?”
“Yes?”
“Did you find something?”
Lydia lowered her voice.
“Yes.”
“What?”
“I don't want to discuss it over the phone.”