Daniel looked away.
Adam laughed bitterly.
“Of course.”
His father continued.
“Thomas had copied records.”
“Good.”
“I was afraid.”
Adam slammed his palm against the table.
“Everybody was afraid!”
Daniel flinched.
Adam’s voice broke.
“Evan went to prison because all of you were afraid.”
“Yes.”
The simple answer destroyed the rest of his anger for a second.
Daniel cried now.
Not dramatically.
Tears moved down an old man’s face.
“I convinced myself the appeal would catch it.”
“Did it?”
“No.”
“You convinced yourself a nineteen-year-old could sit in prison while adults figured out whether paperwork mattered.”
“Yes.”
“And then he died.”
Daniel closed his eyes.
“Yes.”
Adam stood.
“Who planted the bag?”
“I don’t know.”
“You suspect Mason.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Daniel stared toward the hallway.
Then walked away.
Adam almost shouted.
His father returned carrying an old metal cash box.
He placed it on the table.
Inside were files.
Photographs.
A flash drive.
Printed emails.
Copies of evidence logs.
Adam stared.
“What is this?”
“My cowardice organized alphabetically.”
“Dad.”
Daniel removed one photograph.
It showed the evidence room in 2013.
Mason Pike stood near a shelf.
Beside him were multiple blue-sealed bags.
The timestamp was two weeks after records claimed all N-series packages had been destroyed.
Adam stopped breathing.
“Where did you get this?”
“Evidence-room camera archive.”
“You had it.”
“Yes.”
“For twelve years?”
“Yes.”
“WHY?”
“I took it when Thomas started asking questions.”
“You could have cleared Evan.”
Daniel shook his head.
“Not alone.”
“You could have tried.”
“I did later.”
“Later?”
“After Thomas resigned.”
Adam stared.
“I sent materials to Internal Affairs.”
“What happened?”
“They referred them back to county administration.”
“Of course.”
“Then the chief called me in.”
Daniel looked ashamed.
“He said if I continued, Thomas would be charged with mishandling evidence records and I could be charged with removing protected files.”
“Were those threats real?”
“Maybe.”
“You stopped.”
“Yes.”
Adam sat again.
His father continued.
“Years passed. I became chief.”
That sentence sounded ugly even to him.
Adam looked up.
“You got promoted.”