"Then the question isn't just who," Angelina continues. She picks up her pen again and starts writing. "It's also when."
Vanessa's laptop chimes. She reads something that makes her entire posture change before she speaks.
"Judge Henry Li." Vanessa says quietly. "Sacramento. Found this morning."
The pattern updated while we were sitting here.
Damian's eyes find Angelina across the table.
"Sacramento," Jax says. Just the word. His chair comes down on all four legs.
Angelina's shoulders pull back. Her fingers flatten against the notepad. "I knew him."
Three words. Present tense to past tense. Her voice doesn't waver. The cost of keeping it steady is visible only because I've spent seven years learning what her composure looks like when it's structural.
"We worked on the sentencing commission," she adds. "Two years ago. Federal guidelines reform."
Kade pulls up the map on the secondary screen. The new pin sits where everyone in this room already knew it would. Portland. Phoenix. Sacramento. Each one closer than the last.
"Vanessa. Timeline?" Kade says.
"Preliminary says last night. I'll have more within the hour." Her fingers are already moving.
I watched a Ninth Circuit dinner through a camera feed two years ago. Li sat beside her at the head table. She laughed, the real one, not the courtroom version. I filed it the way I file everything about her.
Now Li is a pin on a map and she's gripping the table edge.
Her hand moves to the medal. Thumb and forefinger closing around St. Christopher's profile.
I count.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten—
Higher than before.
I stay in my chair. Because the room is watching and she hasn't given me permission and this is her world, professional and controlled, and I will not take it from her by making this about what I need.
"Protection protocols." Kade's voice cuts through the room, looking directly at Angelina. "Judge Castellano, we need to discuss immediate security adjustments."
Her hand drops from the medal. Both palms flatten against her thighs.
"All right," she says.
"And we need to talk about exposure risk," Kade says.
Angelina's pen comes back down. Three lines were written, numbered. Now she adds a fourth.
"Judges presiding over cases tied to this network," Kade continues. "Active trials, recent sentencing, pending appeals. The overlap creates vulnerability."
Nobody says it.
Angelina does.
"DeLuca's trial starts in four days." Her voice doesn't change. Same professional register she's held since sitting down. "Trafficking conspiracy tied to the same offshore accounts. Same shell corporations. Same shipping manifests you just outlined."
Vanessa nods once. Doesn't add commentary. The data speaks.
Angelina's hand lifts. She marks something on her notepad, quick notation, lawyer shorthand. "The pattern match puts me in the same risk category as the prior victims."