Chapter 9 - The Forged Name
The scan Rae brought the next morning showed my sister's full name printed beneath the word APPROVED. The signature looked real from a distance. Up close, the E in Ellis leaned the wrong way.
"Leah hated cursive," I said. "She printed everything."
"An expert can compare it to genuine records," Rae replied. "First we need to preserve the original."
She'd already sent a public-records request and a confidential tip to the state inspector general. She didn't tell me anyone would swoop in. She told me agencies needed records and witnesses willing to speak on the record.
"Morgane Vale witnessed Leah's detention," I said. "She's been placed in segregation."
"I'll request an interview if she'll consent."
Rae studied me through the glass. "Harper, did you go looking for a conviction because you thought prison would get you closer to her?"
"No. I thought I'd get the files and walk back out. The guard had a right to stop me. I hurt him. I regret that."
"Good. Don't turn a real wrong into a heroic lie. We can tell the truth and still prove what these people did."
When I returned to my unit, a guard handed me a disciplinary notice claiming I'd assaulted Morgane in the dining hall. The witness line bore Brandi Shaw's name—an inmate I had seen laughing when the spaghetti spilled.
"There's a camera," I protested.
"Footage was corrupted," he said.
I asked for the time of the alleged assault and a hearing. He tore off my copy with a shrug. That evening Brandi cornered me by the laundry cart.
"You should've picked up the food," she muttered.
"Did Fitch tell you to sign that?"
Brandi's eyes filled unexpectedly. "They have my sister's address. I don't have a choice."
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Then she shoved a key-card sleeve into my hand. On the back, someone had written a room number: B-12. At the bottom was a word that turned my mouth dry.
LEAH.
