He helped a woman without knowing that she was the judge who held his fate in her hands…

“Daniel. Daniel Carter.”

“Thank you, Daniel. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

“Well, you’d be late. Like me,” he joked.

“Go,” he added. “Good luck with the new job.”

She smiled, got in, and disappeared into traffic. Daniel jumped into his own car, not noticing the small USB drive slipping from the inner pocket of his briefcase onto her passenger seat.

At 7:42, Daniel burst into County Civil Court Five, shirt damp with sweat, briefcase barely holding together. A guard pointed him toward Room 2B. The hallway felt like it stretched for miles.

Inside, he immediately saw Attorney Martin Cole: expensive suit, smug smile, the air of a man who thought he’d already won. Next to him sat Jenna Collins, neatly dressed, eyes cold.

Then he saw the judge in a black robe at the bench—solemn, composed.

The woman from the flat tire.

“Mr. Daniel Carter?” the clerk called.

“Present,” he said, swallowing hard.

The judge looked up for the first time, frowning just slightly. Something flickered in her expression, then vanished.

“Let’s proceed,” she said. “Case 4752023. NovaCore Systems, represented by Attorney Martin Cole and Ms. Jenna Collins, accuses Mr. Daniel Carter of theft of a laptop containing confidential information.

“Mr. Cole, present the facts.”

Cole rose smoothly. “Your Honor, Mr. Carter was an employee at NovaCore. Two weeks ago, a laptop vanished. Security shows no one entering or leaving after hours except the defendant. Ms. Collins, who supervised the area, confirms he had access. We seek damages.”

The judge turned to Daniel. “Mr. Carter, how do you plead?”

“Not guilty, Your Honor. I never took that laptop. I have a video that proves it wasn’t me. It shows Ms. Collins leaving with the equipment after hours. It’s on a USB drive.”

Daniel opened the briefcase, hands slick with sweat, and dug through papers, cables, discs. Nothing.

The silence thickened.

“I brought it,” he insisted. “I’m sure. It has to be here.”

“Do you have a digital backup? Any copy?” the judge asked.

“No, Your Honor. It’s the only copy—but it exists. I swear. I’m being set up.”

Cole smirked. “How convenient to ‘forget’ it.”

The judge raised a hand. “Enough. The court will recess. Mr. Carter, find that evidence. Without proof, your testimony is just words.”

When everyone left, Daniel stayed, feeling everything crumble. This was supposed to be the day he cleared his name.

In the hallway, he paced, rifling through the briefcase again, checking his jacket, his pants. Nothing. His heart thudded in his throat.

He leaned against a column and forced his mind to replay the morning: apartment, car, drive, stop—

“The woman. The tire,” he whispered.

He saw it clearly: placing the briefcase on her passenger seat, reaching in for the rag, never closing it properly.

He checked the time. Twenty-two minutes until the hearing resumed.

He raced downstairs, asked for the staff parking lot, flashed his ID, and lied: he’d left his keys in a judge’s car.

“Name of the judge?” the guard asked.

He hesitated. “Young woman. She was in Room 2B this morning.”

After a brief radio exchange, another guard led him to sublevel two, where a dark gray Mazda sat.

“There,” the guard said.

Daniel recognized the tiny grease stain on the trunk. His.

“I just need a quick look. It’s urgent,” he said.