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But I didn’t use.

Didn’t carry shit around unnecessarily.

And there were details in that case the police knew that I never understood how the fuck they knew.

Specific shit.

Locations.

A piece of information about where something would be that only a small circle of people had known.

Back then, I figured somebody talked.

Street shit.

It happened.

But seven years gave a nigga plenty of time to think.

And six months home gave me the ability to finally start asking questions nobody could answer while I was locked behind a wall.

I put my hand on the folder.

“What he find?”

Tyler glanced at Xavier.

That was the first thing I noticed and something inside me went still.

Xay was leaning back in the chair, phone in his hand again.

“What?” he asked when he noticed us looking.

Tyler looked back at me.

“He said he’d rather explain it to you himself.”

“When?”

“Today.”

“Where?”

“He can meet us.”

I tapped my fingers against the folder.

“What’s in here?”

“Pieces.”

“What kind of pieces?”

“Old discovery. Couple supplemental reports. Shit that wasn’t in the copies you had.”

My eyes narrowed.

“How the fuck he get that?”