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

Captain Roland Pike had spent twenty-six years in local law enforcement. He appeared at charity breakfasts and gave speeches about public trust. I had passed his photograph in the courthouse lobby more times than I could count.

I had never liked his habit of calling every accusation against a police officer a misunderstanding.

Now Keene claimed Pike ordered the basement cameras shut down.

Leah made one thing clear: Keene’s story was an allegation, not proof. He had cooperated only after being confronted with the maintenance records and the threatening messages sent to Gloria’s address.

“Don’t talk to him,” she warned me. “Don’t talk to Pike. Please let us preserve this cleanly.”

I agreed, though being careful felt almost unbearable.

I read the public filings in Isaiah Bell’s case again. He had been nineteen when Voss and Pruitt stopped him outside a gas station. His phone had captured them pulling a man from a car. When Isaiah refused to delete the video, the officers arrested him.

The police report claimed he carried a gun.

The gun had no usable fingerprints.

Isaiah spent eighty-three days in custody before the state charges were dismissed. He walked out with a cane and a permanent fear of uniforms.

The federal case was supposed to determine whether the officers had violated his rights. New evidence had surfaced, and I had been due to decide whether it could be used.

I pressed a hand to my scalp.

They had not hurt me only because they hated seeing a Black woman in authority. They also needed time.

At 10:12 that night, Tessa called.

“Judge, the record of your morning hearing has changed.”

“What changed?”

“A notice says you requested a medical continuance yesterday.”

“I did no such thing.”

“I know,” she said. “It was entered under your credentials.”