Across town, in the modest Pine Grove neighborhood, Simone sat at her makeshift desk in the living room, surrounded by case files and legal documents. Her eyes burned from hours of reading, but she couldn't stop. Something about the prosecution's evidence wasn't adding up.
"Baby, you need to rest," Sarah called from the kitchen. "You've been at it for hours."
"Just a little longer, Mama." Simone pulled up another document on her laptop, comparing it to the hard copies spread before her. "These financial records they submitted... something's wrong with them."
Marcus emerged from his study, where he'd been reviewing his own bank statements. "What kind of wrong?"
"The transactions they're using to prove we bought materials for the fire..." Simone traced the numbers with her finger. "The dates match, but the transaction IDs don't follow the bank's normal sequence."
A knock at the door made them all freeze. Since the trial began, unexpected visitors had become a source of anxiety. Marcus checked through the peephole before opening the door to reveal Mrs. Walker, her face pale with worry.
"Eleanor!" Sarah moved to help the elderly woman to a chair. "What's wrong?"
"They came to see Tommy." Mrs. Walker's hands trembled as she clutched her purse. "Men from Bancroft's company. They said they were doing a performance review, but..." She swallowed hard. "They knew about my testimony. Said it would be a shame if Tommy lost his job in these difficult times."
Simone's stomach clenched. "They threatened his job to keep you from testifying?"
Mrs. Walker nodded, tears in her eyes. "Tommy has a baby on the way. He can't lose that job. I... I'm so sorry, but I can't testify anymore."
Sarah hugged the older woman while Simone paced, her mind racing. "Did anyone else come forward about seeing something that night?"
Marcus shook his head. "James from two doors down said he heard something, but now he's saying he must have been mistaken. And the Robinson family suddenly decided to take a vacation. They're silencing everyone."
Simone ran her hands through her braids in frustration. "How are we supposed to fight back when they can just buy or threaten every witness?"
Her phone buzzed with a text from her friend Ashley, a junior clerk at the courthouse: Check your email. Fast.
Simone opened her laptop, clicking on the new message. Her eyes widened as she read. "The prosecution just filed an emergency motion. They're claiming to have new evidence: surveillance footage from a second camera and updated financial records."