“Yes.”
He turned slightly toward the jury.
“So if someone wanted to create a convincing paper trail against Grant Moore, you would have the knowledge to do so.”
The courtroom changed.
My mother looked up sharply.
My father gripped the bench.
Grant’s eyes stayed fixed on me.
There it was.
The flip.
The last refuge.
If he could not keep me dead, he would make me dangerous.
Rachel stood.
“Objection. Speculation. Improper impeachment.”
The judge said, “Sustained.”
Renner lifted both hands.
“I’ll rephrase.”
He faced me.
“Commander Moore, did you participate in the federal investigation before being identified as a witness?”
“Yes.”
“You routed Harbor Shield Recovery for review.”
“I flagged irregularities through proper channels.”
“You personally flagged your brother’s company.”
“Yes.”
“Without disclosing the personal family conflict.”
“I disclosed it immediately after identifying the connection.”
Renner glanced at his notes.
“Immediately?”
“Yes.”
“You expect this jury to believe that after eight years of family estrangement, you just happened to find your brother’s company in a federal review queue?”
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