"Let me see the document."
Elijah approached the bench.
The judge studied it.
His expression changed.
"Where did you obtain this?"
"Traffic camera records."
"How?"
"I requested them."
"From whom?"
"The county transportation office."
Tolbert looked at Andrea.
"Did the state receive this?"
"No, Your Honor."
Elijah returned to the defense table.
He placed the timeline on the screen.
A camera image appeared.
11:07 p.m.
Isaiah's vehicle.
Then another.
11:09.
The same vehicle.
Then another.
11:11.
Another intersection.
11:13.
Another.
The route did not lead from the burglary location.
It led in the opposite direction.
Judge Tolbert leaned forward.
Elijah continued.
"At 11:20, Officer Haskins says he saw my brother leaving the neighborhood."
He clicked.
A map appeared.
"At 11:20, according to county traffic records, my brother was here."
He pointed.
"Seven miles away."
The courtroom became silent.
Officer Haskins shifted in his chair.
Elijah looked at him.
"Officer, can you explain that?"
Haskins frowned.
"I may have gotten the time wrong."
"By thirteen minutes?"
"I don't know."
"Your report says 11:20."
"That's what I remembered."
Elijah nodded.
"All right."
He opened another folder.
"Your body camera?"
Haskins swallowed.
"It wasn't activated."
"Why?"
"I don't know."
"Department policy?"
"Requires activation during stops."
"Did you activate it?"
"No."
"Why?"
Haskins said nothing.
Elijah didn't press him.
Instead, he returned to his table.
He removed a photograph.
"Your Honor, I'd like to introduce this."
The photograph showed Isaiah lying on the pavement.
His hands were cuffed behind him.
Officer Haskins was kneeling beside him.
The timestamp read:
11:04 p.m.
A murmur spread across the room.
Judge Tolbert stared.
"Where did you obtain that?"
"Doorbell camera."
"Whose?"
"A resident near the intersection."
"Does the resident authenticate it?"
"Yes."
Andrea stood immediately.
"Your Honor, we have concerns regarding chain of custody."
Elijah nodded.
"I expected that."
He opened another folder.
"I brought the original file."
Judge Tolbert looked at him.
"You brought the original digital file?"
"Yes."
"How?"
"The homeowner gave it to me yesterday."
Tolbert looked toward the prosecutor.
Andrea's expression had become serious.
Elijah continued.
"According to Officer Haskins, the arrest happened after the traffic stop."
He pointed to the photograph.
"But this photograph shows my brother already in handcuffs sixteen minutes before the reported stop."
He turned toward Haskins.
"Officer, what happened at 11:04?"
Haskins didn't answer.
Judge Tolbert leaned forward.
"Officer?"
"I don't remember."
Elijah nodded.
"That's okay."
He returned to his seat.
The judge looked at him.
"Mr. Carrington."
"Yes, Your Honor?"
"Where did you learn to do this?"
Elijah looked at the judge.
"Do what?"
"Prepare a case."
Elijah glanced toward his brother.
Then toward the worn briefcase.
"My father taught me to read."
He paused.
"My mother taught me to ask questions."
Another pause.
"My brother taught me that sometimes people decide you're guilty before they know the facts."
Judge Tolbert said nothing.
Elijah sat down.
But the hearing was only beginning.
Because inside the final folder was evidence that could change everything.
And Elijah had not shown it yet.
The recess lasted fifteen minutes.
Nobody left.
People stood in the hallway whispering.
The courthouse usually emptied between hearings.
Not today.
Everyone wanted to know what the seventeen-year-old had discovered.
Inside the courtroom, Andrea Lindholm approached Officer Haskins.
"What happened?"
Haskins shook his head.
"I don't know."
"You don't know?"
"The photograph is real."
"Then explain the timeline."
"I can't."
Andrea stared at him.
She had prosecuted hundreds of cases.
She knew the difference between an ordinary mistake and a problem that could destroy a prosecution.
This was becoming the second kind.
Across the room, Elijah sat beside Isaiah.
Isaiah leaned toward him.
"Where did you get all this?"
Elijah whispered:
"You told me to look."
"I told you to look for a lawyer."
"I did."
"And?"
"He didn't listen."
Isaiah sighed.
"Elijah."
"I couldn't just leave you in there."
Isaiah looked at his younger brother.
"You know you're seventeen, right?"
"Yes."
"Most seventeen-year-olds are worried about college applications."
"I finished mine."
Isaiah smiled despite himself.
"You're impossible."
Elijah smiled.
Then the judge returned.
"Mr. Carrington."
"Yes, Your Honor?"
"I'd like to understand your position."
"Yes."
"Are you arguing that your brother was never at the burglary scene?"
"Yes."
"Do you have evidence?"
"Yes."
"More than what we've seen?"
"Yes."
Tolbert leaned back.
"Proceed."
Elijah opened folder two.
"The alleged victim is Mrs. Wanda Freeman."
Andrea stiffened.
Elijah nodded toward the clerk.
"Did the state interview Mrs. Freeman?"
Andrea answered.
"Yes."
"When?"
"We attempted to."
"Attempted?"
"She was unavailable."
Elijah looked at the judge.
"I spoke with her."
Tolbert raised an eyebrow.
"When?"
"Saturday."
"And what did she tell you?"
"She said nothing was stolen."
The courtroom erupted.
Andrea stood.
"Your Honor—"
Tolbert raised his hand.
"Quiet."
Elijah continued.
"Mrs. Freeman said she reported a noise. She did not report a burglary."
Andrea shook her head.
"That's not what the police report says."
"Then the police report is incorrect."
Elijah produced a signed statement.
"This is her statement."
Tolbert read it.
His eyes narrowed.
"She says her television was never missing."
"Correct."
"Her laptops?"
"Never missing."
"Forced entry?"
"She says there was none."
Andrea approached.
"May I see that?"
The judge handed it to her.
Andrea read every line.
Then looked toward Elijah.
"How did you obtain this?"
"I visited her."
"Without notifying the prosecution?"
"I wasn't required to notify you before asking a witness questions."
"She's a potential witness."
"Then you should have interviewed her."
The courtroom went quiet.
Judge Tolbert looked over his glasses.
"Mr. Carrington."
"Yes?"
"Be careful."
"Yes, Your Honor."
There was no arrogance in Elijah's voice.