Seconds stretched.
The clock read 5:39 p.m.
Twenty-one minutes.
Lucía looked toward the small window. Rain streaked down the glass. She wondered if Samuel had known. If he had hidden something because he feared his own brother. If he had tried to protect them and failed only because no one looked in the right place.
Then Rosa gasped.
“It opened.”
Nobody breathed.
“There’s a packet inside,” Rosa said. “Plastic-wrapped. Papers. A USB drive. And… oh my God.”
Camila gripped the edge of the table. “What?”
“There’s a shirt,” Rosa whispered. “A gray shirt. It has brown stains all over it.”
Lucía covered her mouth.
The attorney spoke quickly. “Do not remove anything else. Step back. Call local police and tell them this relates to an active execution appeal in Texas. I am contacting law enforcement now.”
Warden Harris was already on her radio again.
At 5:43 p.m., the attorney’s phone rang. He answered, listened, and his face changed.
