"They wanted to know if I had uploaded anything, copied anything, used another computer. None of it made sense, because they'd told me this was about stolen property."
"So, what did you do?"
Isaiah took a slow breath. "I thought maybe they were trying to take something from my bag, and then say it had been there all along. I didn't know what the black drive was, but I knew it wasn't mine. I didn't want it disappearing while they had my backpack."
"Where did you put it?"
Isaiah looked toward the clear container holding his remaining medical belongings. For several seconds, nobody moved. Then he pointed.
"The inhaler refill."
Evelyn turned toward him. "Which one?"
"The unopened box. There's a cardboard sleeve around it."
Paul stood. "Did you put the drive inside the medication box?"
"Not inside the sealed medication. Between the cardboard sleeve and the outer packaging."
"Why there?"
"Because Nurse Reed had the inhaler stuff with her. The police were focused on the backpack."
Evelyn looked at Paul. "That container has been under hospital control since respiratory took over his treatment."
"Has anyone opened the refill packaging?"
"No. We used his rescue inhaler and hospital medication. The refill remained sealed."
Paul took out his phone and called the evidence technician. Maya stepped farther away from the container.
Paul noticed. "You don't have to leave."
"I'm not touching anything connected to the recovery."
"That's fine."
"No, Paul. It needs to be more than fine: document that I stayed out of it."
He gave her a brief nod. "I will."
Within several minutes, the digital forensics specialist arrived with an independent evidence technician and Karen Grant from hospital compliance. Dr. Caldwell remained present because the container held medical property belonging to a patient still under his care.
Paul explained exactly what Isaiah had said. Karen looked at the container. "Has this been continuously secured?"
Evelyn answered, "Yes. It came through clinical intake and stayed in the treatment area. Police asked for access, but I did not release the medication items."
The evidence technician photographed the container before touching it: he documented the hospital label, Isaiah's name, the time of access, and everyone present. Maya stood against the wall with her arms folded, watching.
The container was opened. Inside were Isaiah's inhaler, medication paperwork, and an unopened refill package wrapped in a thin cardboard sleeve. The technician photographed it again.
"Mr. Williams," Paul said. "Is this the one?"
Isaiah leaned forward. "Yes."
The technician carefully separated the sleeve from the packaging. Something small slid halfway out: black plastic.