James ordered a coffee at the counter, his movements deliberate and measured. He didn't look at Kelly. Instead, he chose a table near the window on the opposite side of the shop, maintaining the distance they'd established as their safety protocol. Only after several minutes, when he was certain no one had followed him and the college students remained absorbed in their screens, did he glance in her direction.

Kelly felt the weight of that look like a physical touch. She waited another moment, then stood, gathering her files with deliberate slowness. She moved to the counter as if ordering a refill, positioning herself close enough to James that they could speak in low voices without appearing to interact.

"You shouldn't have come," James said quietly, his eyes fixed on his coffee cup. "There's been movement on the case. My supervisor is asking questions."

Kelly's chest tightened. "What kind of questions?"

"The kind that suggest someone's wondering why I'm being cautious about the convictions." James's jaw clenched. "I've been reviewing the original investigation files. The evidence against your clients is thin. Very thin. If anyone notices I'm having doubts..."

"Then help me," Kelly whispered. "You have access to everything. The security footage from the factory, the witness statements that were never properly vetted—"

"That's exactly why I can't." James finally looked at her, and the conflict in his eyes was devastating. "If I help you and it's discovered, it destroys both of us. It destroys the case. Your clients don't get exonerated because the evidence is tainted, because the prosecutor was compromised."

Kelly wanted to argue, to remind him that justice mattered more than his career, more than their secret. But she knew he was right. That was the cruelest part of this—they were both right, and both wrong, and there was no path forward that didn't require sacrifice.

"Then what are we doing?" she asked, barely audible.

James set down his cup with careful precision. "I don't know anymore." He stood to leave, and in that moment, Kelly saw the medal on his chest—the ceremonial pin from his early days as a police officer, back when he'd believed the system could be just. She wanted to reach out and touch it, to remind him of who he'd wanted to be.