Kelly nodded slowly, her mind already working through the implications. "We need to build an airtight case first," she said, keeping her voice measured. "Something that doesn't rely on you handing me evidence. Something that stands on its own merit."

James studied her face, and she could see the respect flicker across his features—respect mixed with something more complicated. He'd always been drawn to her precision, her refusal to cut corners even when corners desperately needed cutting.

"What are you thinking?" he asked.

"The security footage proves someone was at the scene. But I need to establish reasonable doubt without it. I need to show the investigation was flawed from the start." Kelly pulled out her notebook, speaking quickly now, her legal mind overriding the dangerous intimacy of the moment. "Police reports, witness statements, timeline inconsistencies. The case file itself is full of gaps. If I can expose those gaps in court, create enough reasonable doubt, then when the footage surfaces later—through proper channels, through discovery—it becomes corroborating evidence, not something that looks like we orchestrated."

James leaned back, considering. "You're talking about a slow burn."

"I'm talking about doing this right," Kelly said firmly. "For them. For us."

The moment stretched between them, weighted with everything they couldn't say aloud. James reached into his jacket and withdrew a small manila envelope, setting it on the table between them with the casual gesture of someone checking the time. Inside would be copies—carefully documented, carefully deniable copies—of the evidence she needed.

"The preliminary hearing is scheduled for mid-December," he said quietly. "You'll have everything you need by then."

Kelly's hand trembled slightly as she reached for the envelope. This was the moment it became real. Not just an affair, not just stolen moments and whispered conversations. This was conspiracy. This was both of them crossing a line that, once crossed, couldn't be uncrossed.

She was about to respond when she caught movement outside the window. A familiar figure walking past—Margaret Chen from the courthouse, James's colleague from the prosecutor's office. Kelly's stomach dropped. Margaret glanced toward the coffee shop window, her pace slowing.