Scout lowered himself again, eyes never leaving the evidence. The courtroom waited, a hundred breaths held at once. Merritt sensed what everyone else felt but couldn’t yet name—the thin, trembling edge between coincidence and confession.
The bailiff carried the charred tag to the center table, placing it beneath the courtroom light. Its metal surface was warped but legible enough to reveal faint letters: Admin Acc….. The implication of the visible word was clear.