Chapter 7: The Hidden Recording

The judge ordered a short recess.

The courtroom erupted into whispers the moment he left the bench.

I stayed where I was, staring at the frozen image on the screen.

Someone had entered Adriana's apartment that night.

Someone had carried equipment inside.

And somehow, that equipment had produced the recording being used against me.

I turned toward Adriana.

She was sitting rigidly beside her lawyer, her fingers wrapped tightly around the photograph of her grandmother.

For once, she didn't look angry.

She looked frightened.

I walked toward her.

“Adriana.”

She refused to meet my eyes.

“What?”

“Who has access to your apartment?”

Her jaw tightened.

“No one.”

“Then why did someone enter it that night?”

“I already told you. I don't know.”

Her answer came too quickly.

I noticed her lawyer watching us.

His expression was unreadable.

I lowered my voice.

“Your grandmother was home that night, wasn't she?”

Adriana's eyes suddenly flashed.

“Of course she was.”

“Then why was someone carrying recording equipment into your apartment?”

She didn't answer.

The judge returned before she could.

“Everyone back in place.”

The courtroom settled again.

The judge looked at the maintenance supervisor.

“Continue.”

The supervisor pulled up another file.

“We recovered the access records for the service elevator.”

“The person carrying the equipment didn't use the main elevator.”

“They used the service elevator.”

“And that elevator requires a separate access code.”

The judge frowned.

“Who has that code?”

“Building management, maintenance staff, and emergency responders.”

I immediately raised my hand.

“Your Honor, can we check whether the same code was used anywhere else that night?”

The judge nodded.

The supervisor opened the records.

Several entries appeared on the screen.

10:01 p.m.

Service entrance.

10:08 p.m.

Sixteenth floor.

10:11 p.m.

Seventeenth floor.

10:24 p.m.

Parking garage.

I stared at the final entry.

“The person left through the parking garage.”

The supervisor nodded.

“Yes.”

“Do you have camera footage?”

“We do.”

The footage appeared.

A dark sedan was parked near the service entrance.

The person from the hallway camera walked toward it.

They opened the trunk.

The black equipment case was inside.

Then the person removed a second object.

A small audio recorder.

My stomach tightened.

The recording hadn't simply appeared.

Someone had deliberately created it.

The judge ordered the footage paused.

“Can you enhance the license plate?”

The supervisor tried.

The image sharpened slowly.

A plate number appeared.

I recognized the first three letters immediately.

My breath caught.

Those letters belonged to a vehicle I'd seen parked outside the building several times.

Adriana's lawyer noticed my reaction.

“Ms. Wells?”

I looked at him.

“That car belongs to someone I know.”

The judge turned toward me.

“Who?”

I hesitated.

“The building's property manager.”

A heavy silence fell over the courtroom.

The property manager, Daniel Mercer, was sitting in the back row.

Every eye turned toward him.

His face went pale.

“That's not my car,” he said immediately.

The maintenance supervisor shook his head.

“It is registered to the property management company.”

Daniel stood abruptly.

“I let several employees use it.”

“Then tell us who had it that night,” the judge said.

Daniel opened his mouth.

Nothing came out.

Adriana's lawyer suddenly stood.

“Your Honor, this is becoming irrelevant to the actual claim.”

The judge's expression hardened.

“Counsel, your client has accused this woman of causing a death.”

“If evidence suggests someone else manipulated the recording, it is extremely relevant.”

The lawyer sat down.

Daniel looked toward Adriana.

It lasted less than a second.

But I saw it.

A quick exchange.

A silent warning.

And Adriana immediately looked away.

I felt the pieces beginning to connect.

The fake recording.

The access logs.

The mysterious equipment.

The property management vehicle.

And Adriana's sudden fear.

Then the judge asked the question that changed everything.

“Ms. Ferraro, did you know about this recording before today?”

Adriana's lips parted.

Her eyes filled with tears.

For several seconds, she said nothing.

Then she whispered,

“Yes.”

The courtroom exploded with noise.

I stared at her.

“What?”

Adriana lowered her head.

“I knew the recording existed.”

“But I didn't make it.”

The judge struck his gavel.

“Order!”

Adriana looked at me through tear-filled eyes.

“Genevieve…”

Her voice broke.

“I never expected anyone to die.”

My blood ran cold.

I slowly stood.

“What exactly did you expect to happen?”