No sound came out.
Evelyn tapped the page. “Let’s continue. This account carries a corporate classification code. CORP-7. Are you familiar with that?”
Jamal’s face changed.
It was small.
A flicker.
But the judge saw it.
So did I.
“Mr. Price,” Evelyn said, “what does CORP-7 indicate?”
“I would need to review—”
“You are a senior investment broker. What does it indicate?”
Jamal’s throat moved. “A corporate entity account.”
“A corporate entity,” Evelyn repeated. “Not a personal account. Not a distressed individual’s credit line. A corporate account.”
Caldwell stood. “Objection. Counsel is mischaracterizing—”
“Overruled,” Judge Whitman said sharply. “The witness will answer.”
Evelyn approached the stand.
“Why, Mr. Price, did the documents you brought into federal court to prove Cassidy Vale is an incompetent individual debtor contain the classification code of a corporate entity?”
Jamal reached for his water.
His hand shook hard enough that water spilled down the side of the glass.
“I only reported what I found.”
“No,” Evelyn said. “You reported what you created.”
The courtroom went still.
Part 3
Evelyn opened her briefcase and removed a manila folder.
“Your Honor, the defense submits Exhibit A.”
The bailiff delivered copies.
Caldwell opened his.
His face lost color.
Judge Whitman read for several seconds.
“What am I looking at?” he asked.
“A state registration filing for Apex Holdings Group LLC,” Evelyn said.
At the name, Jamal flinched.
Not dramatically.
Not enough for my parents to understand.
But enough for a federal judge.
Evelyn turned to him. “Do you recognize Apex Holdings Group?”
“No.”
The word came too fast.
Evelyn nodded as if he had given her exactly what she needed.
“Interesting. Because the debt you attributed to my client is held by Apex Holdings Group.”
Brittany made a small noise.
My father looked at Jamal.
My mother’s tissue froze halfway to her cheek.
Evelyn continued. “The company was registered in Cassidy Vale’s name using her home address. A convenient setup, wouldn’t you agree?”
Jamal said nothing.
“Who filed the registration?” Evelyn asked.
“I don’t know.”
“But electronic filings log IP addresses, correct?”
He stared at the paper.
“Yes.”
Evelyn pointed. “Read the IP address into the record.”
Jamal’s lips tightened.
Judge Whitman’s voice dropped. “Read it.”
Jamal did.
Evelyn lifted another page. “We subpoenaed the internet provider. That IP address belongs to Northern Lake Capital’s downtown Chicago office.”
