She put her hand over it.
Anita called the nurse first.
Sign-in sheets. Timestamps. “Yes, I remember Mrs. Cooper. She was there every day. She brought us coffee. She was there on the fourteenth; I changed Mrs. Foster’s line at two and Rachel held her hand through it.”
Then Samuel.
The September template on the June form.
The bank’s own revision log.
The IP address on the transfer authorization, which resolved to the office, which the prosecution had used against me at trial, and which Samuel now showed had been accessed by a badge number that wasn’t mine.
“Whose badge?”
“Badge 004. Issued to Nicole Cooper, Director of Administration.”
Nicole’s lawyer objected.
The judge, a tired woman in her sixties named Harlan, overruled.
“Mr. Ortiz, you’re telling me this badge log existed at the time of the original trial?”
“It existed, Your Honor. It was never subpoenaed. Defense counsel subpoenaed the transfer log. Not the door log.”
