Her name.
Obstruction.
Interference with an investigation.
Misuse of judicial authority.
The language sounded formal.
Almost convincing.
Then she saw the case number.
She knew it.
Not because of remarkable memory.
Because the number had crossed her desk hundreds of times years earlier.
It belonged to a civil dispute involving a commercial lease.
Closed.
Settled.
Archived.
Not criminal.
Not narcotics.
Not remotely connected to Holloway.
Naomi looked up.
Holloway mistook the pause for fear.
“Now you understand.”
“I understand something.”
“Good.”
“Who gave you this?”
His jaw tightened.
“It’s signed.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
He reached across the bench.
“Turn around.”
Naomi pulled her arm away.
One of the uniformed officers stepped up.
“Judge, don’t make this harder.”
Naomi looked at him.
“What is your name?”
He hesitated.
Holloway snapped:
“Take her.”
The officer reached for Naomi’s upper arm.
She stepped back.
The movement was small.
But Holloway reacted as though she had resisted violently.
He grabbed the front of her robe near the shoulder.
The fabric twisted.
Naomi lost balance for half a second.
Her hip struck the edge of the bench.
The gallery erupted.
“Hey!”
“What are you doing?”
“Get your hands off her!”
The bailiff moved again.
The second officer blocked him.
Naomi braced one palm against the bench and straightened.
Holloway still held her robe.
She looked directly into his eyes.
“Take your hand off me.”
His grip tightened.
“You are under arrest.”
“Then execute the warrant lawfully.”
“Turn around.”
“First.”
Her voice became colder.
“Take your hand off me.”
Something in the room shifted.
Holloway released the robe.
Not because he respected her.
Because too many people were watching.
Naomi smoothed the fabric.
Then looked down at the warrant again.
The clerk leaned forward.
“Judge?”
Naomi raised one finger.
Wait.
She scanned the lower half.
Affidavit reference.
Judicial authorization.
Date.
Time.
Signature.
Then everything inside her went still.
She read the signature again.
Naomi Carter.
Not typed.
Signed.
Her own name.
Her own signature.
Or an imitation of it.
The timestamp beside the signature read 1:42 P.M.
Naomi looked toward the courtroom clock.