TWO POLICE OFFICERS SHAVED MY HEAD—THEN DISCOVERED I WAS THE JUDGE ASSIGNED TO THEIR CASE.

The fraudulent notice was dated 7:06 a.m., before I ever walked into the service corridor.

It was not an order. It was a proposed administrative notice drafted from my chambers account, then slipped into the docket queue as though I had requested time off for a medical emergency.

That distinction mattered. Somebody was trying to build a paper trail, not simply forge a ruling.

I knew the courthouse computers had individual audit logs. Tessa knew them better.

She printed the available record for the system administrator and turned it over to investigators without trying to delete or correct anything herself.

“Who had my login?” I asked.

“Someone in your office. Or somebody with access to a stolen authentication token,” she said. “It’s not enough to point a finger.”

For the first time, I wondered whether the person assisting Voss had stood outside my chamber door and smiled at me every morning.

That night I called my mother.

“Do you remember Pike?”

“Of course. He never looked at the cleaning staff until he needed something.”

“Did he ever threaten you?”

She was silent long enough that I thought the call had dropped.

“Once,” she said finally. “Years ago, I found a locked file cabinet open after hours. He told me some doors stay closed for a reason.”

“Did you report it?”

“I was raising you alone and needed the paycheck.”

Her voice cracked.