“We have the reports ready to file,” Grant’s voice continued on the recording. “One phone call, and the state will think you’re neglecting her.”

“Please leave,” my recorded voice pleaded.

“Enjoy your last few days with her, Emily,” Grant said. “Because we own this city, and we own the people who make these decisions.”

The recording cut out with the sound of the door slamming shut again.

I looked up at the judge.

Judge Miller’s face had gone cold.

She looked down at the documents on her desk, then over at Evelyn Whitmore.

“Ms. Jenkins,” the judge said slowly. “Does the IP report match the dates of the neglect filings mentioned in this recording?”

“Yes, Your Honor,” Sarah said. “The first anonymous report was filed forty-five minutes after this recording ended, from an IP address registered to Evelyn Whitmore’s personal office assistant.”

Vanessa Hale turned her head slowly to look at Evelyn.

“Evelyn,” Vanessa whispered, her voice carrying across the quiet room. “What did you do?”

Evelyn did not answer her.

She kept her eyes fixed straight ahead, her jaw set in a hard line.