They sat at the kitchen table. Evelyn set the casserole down—chicken and rice, still warm—and placed the USB drive beside it with the careful deliberateness of someone handing over something that mattered.
"I've lived in this neighborhood 31 years," Evelyn said. She folded her hands on the table and looked at Jade directly. "I've watched that man, Harlan. I've watched him work this neighborhood for a long time, and I've seen things I did not know what to do with."
"What kind of things?" Jade asked.
"Twice," Evelyn said. "Two separate times on our street, two different families." She nodded toward the USB drive. "I recorded both of them. I filed reports both times and was told the matters had been reviewed and resolved. They were not resolved. Nothing happened." She paused. "I kept the recordings because I did not know what else to do with them. I know what to do with them now."
Jade picked up the drive. She turned it over in her hand. "Evelyn," she said quietly, "thank you."
The older woman waved a hand like the thanks embarrassed her. "Do not thank me. I should have pushed harder when it happened. You do what you can with what you know at the time." She stood and smoothed her house dress. "Eat the casserole before it gets cold." Then she let herself out the front door.
Marcus had the footage within the hour. He called back minutes after that, and his voice had shifted. She could hear it: the particular change that meant something significant had landed.
"This is real," he said. "Both incidents are clear. Both involve Harlan and Black residents on your street. One is from months ago, one from years back. This establishes a pattern, Jade. This is not one bad morning. This is documented, repeated conduct."
"Can we use it?"
"Absolutely. But I want to bring someone else in. There's an attorney, Layla Thornton—civil rights. She's won major cases against police departments in Georgia and Alabama. She's exactly what this case needs right now. I want to call her today."
"Call her," Jade said.
Layla Thornton called back within the hour and joined the case before the afternoon was out. Layla was sharp and direct and moved fast. By the end of her first day on the case, she had filed a discovery motion requesting all records related to the original complaint—the call about aggressive dogs that had sent Harlan to that parking lot on that morning.
Marcus had called it a long shot; the judge apparently disagreed.