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When she opens her mouth to speak, I ask, “Where were you the night of the vandalism?”

“Home,” she says.

“Can anyone confirm your alibi?”

“Chloe.”

“Interesting,” I say. “You two were home all night?”

For her part, she’s a lot quicker than Jake is. Wheels start turning in her head; I see them as she glares at me, sits up straighter. “We might have gone out for food too. I can’t remember.”

“You can’t?”

“I just said no.” Though she’s still smiling, her eyes are burning into me. Good. I want her as agitated as possible.

“Your Honor,” I say, and move from her, opening my binder and removing the screenshots I printed and place them before the dean. “Ms. West claims she was home for most of the night, and yet these screenshots from her social media are time-stamped just fifteen minutes before the vandalism. Pictures she took of a full moon.”

Jake rushes over, snatches them from the table. “Your Honor, this evidence was never submitted.”

“It was, four weeks ago,” I say, buried inside a 112-page document of all the time stamps I printed from the video footage. I’m sure Jake thought I took them, searching every angle of the photo for another culprit, or any evidence I could use, but really, I knew when he saw all the pages he’d grow bored of looking through them, so I stuffed these in last.

The perk of being meticulous is that nobody questions you when you submit something like that.

I lock eyes with Jake, a silent challenge passing between us. He almost looks impressed, if not for the obvious annoyance furrowing his brows.

For his part, he recovers quickly. “These show Ms. West being out, sure, but what do they have to do with the case?”

“On the next page,” I say, pushing it toward the dean, “is a photo I took just seven feet away from the statue. You’ll see the angle is the very same, the moon positioned in the same place, and the edge of the school building at the corner matches up exactly with Ms. West’s photos. Placing her at the exact scene of the crime during the crime itself.”

Jake laughs. “Your Honor, I’m sure if I tried, I could take similar photos too. This isn’t evidence.”

“Line them up,” I say, snatching the paper from Jake and handing it to the dean. “The angle is exactly the same.”

“Circumstantial evidence,” Jake says.

Though the dean does as I say, and the photos do overlap perfectly, he says, “I agree.”

“Another photo I’d like us to take a look at…” I grab the selfie of Rachel and Chloe taken earlier in the day, and another photo behind it. For dramatic effect, I march over to Rachel and hold her photo beside her face. “Ms. West is wearing the exact same lip combo now and the day of the vandalism.”

“Objection,” Jake cries as Rachel slaps the paper away. “Your Honor, this has nothing to do with the case.”

I hurriedly hold up a photo of the statue. “The founder’s lips were painted with the exact same combo Ms. West wears, a specific limited-edition combination that Ms. Wilson testified Ms. West was the only person to have access to when she won the custom lip kit set. On the next page, you’ll find another photo with Ms. West holding said kit.”

“There are lots of similar lip kits—” Rachel begins, but I cut her off, loudly and quickly, before anyone else can interrupt.

“So Rachel West had access to the clown costume more than anyone else and claims she was home, though her social media shows her at the school at the time of the incident and wearing the same lipstick today as what was used to deface the statue. Rachel West is the real perpetrator here.”

“Objection!” Jake calls. “This is all speculation. None of this is concrete, circumstantial at best.”

“As is the evidence against Mr. Hudson,” I say. “I’d argue the evidence against Rachel is more damning.”

As the tension in the courtroom hangs heavy in the air and a wave of excited murmurs from the audience surrounds us, I can feel my heartbeat speeding and speeding up, my nerves starting to tingle in a slow burn.

“I didn’t do anything.” Rachel stands from her seat.

But as much as I believe the evidence works against Rachel, I know Jake is right: This is all circumstantial. There’s nothing I can pin on her that unquestionably frames her as guilty. My only saving grace is that the evidence against Theo has to weigh the same.

“I also have motivation,” I say to the dean.