"Please wait here, sir. I'll remove the memory card first," the young man said.
James Aron nodded in understanding.
"This case… it won't involve my younger brother, will it?" the woman asked, clearly anxious. Her fingers intertwined tightly on the table.
"Don't worry," Aron replied calmly. "I only need the footage on that memory card to prove my client's innocence. Your brother has nothing to do with this."
The woman exhaled in relief, her shoulders relaxing slightly.
Moments later, the young man returned and handed a memory card to Aron. "Give me a moment," he said before turning toward the counter. He opened a drawer and took out a tablet.
"You can use this to watch the footage," he added, handing it over.
"Thank you," Aron replied briefly.
The young man helped Aron insert the memory card into the tablet. A few seconds later, a list of recordings appeared on the screen. The tablet was placed at the center of the table, close enough for all three of them to watch together.
"Try looking for the recording from when you moved the car," Aron said.
The young man immediately scrolled through the list. His fingers moved quickly before stopping.
"This one," he said. "There's a recording from that night."
"What time?" Aron asked.
"About 12:45 a.m."
"Play it."
As soon as the playback button was pressed, the dashcam footage filled the screen. All three of them leaned in, their eyes fixed on the display.
At first, the footage was calm. The street was dimly lit, the colors clear, the image stable. A few seconds later, two figures appeared in front of the car—a Black man and a White man.
The fight erupted without warning.
The Black man threw punch after punch. One of them struck the other man's face, sending the White man staggering backward before slamming into the hood of the Korean woman's car.
The footage shook slightly from the impact.
The violence did not stop there. Moments later, the Black man was seen sitting in front of the car, his fists continuing to rain down on the body lying beneath him—again and again, without hesitation.
"I know this man," the young man's voice broke the silence.
Aron turned to him. "You know him?"
The young man nodded slowly. "He's a VIP customer at that pub. I heard… his father is a highly influential judge."
Influential.
The word echoed in Aron's mind.
"Do you know his name?" Aron asked, his voice more cautious now.
The young man thought for a moment. "If I'm not mistaken… Mason Bryant."
"What about the other man? Do you know him?" Aron asked.
The young man lowered his gaze slightly. "I don't know him personally, but some of the pub staff told me he's a drug dealer."
"Did you see either of them inside the pub that night?" Aron asked.
The young man shook his head. "I didn't see either of them."
Aron's lips curved into a thin smile that held no trace of amusement.
"This is a big case," he murmured to himself.
"Could you send this footage to me?" Aron asked.
"Of course," the young man replied without hesitation. As soon as Aron gave him his email address, the video was sent.
"That's all I need," Aron said as he rose slightly from his chair. "But if possible, hide this memory card for now. If any police officers or detectives ask about it, just tell them you've already handed it over to me."
The young man exchanged a glance with his sister before both of them nodded in understanding.
"Thank you very much," Aron said sincerely.
"You're welcome," the siblings replied in unison.
**
Meanwhile, inside the car, Nilson had been waiting so long that he eventually fell asleep in the driver's seat. His head rested against the side, his breathing steady—until a knock sounded against the window.
Tap. Tap.
Nilson jolted awake and immediately turned to his left. His half-blurred eyes snapped fully open when he saw James Aron standing outside. He quickly pressed the unlock button.
"So? How did it go?" Nilson asked as soon as Aron got into the car.
"We're going straight to the DA's office," Aron replied without hesitation. "I'm going to get your brother released."
"Yes!" Nilson exclaimed, his face lighting up instantly. Without wasting any time, he shifted gears and stepped on the accelerator. The car pulled away from the area.
"How are you going to free my brother?" Nilson asked as he drove.
"I have evidence that proves your brother is innocent," Aron answered.
"What kind of evidence?"
"Footage." Aron paused briefly. "It's just that… I didn't expect this case to be bigger than I thought."
Nilson glanced at him, his expression tightening slightly. "What do you mean?"
Aron let out a small sigh. "I'll explain later. After your brother is released."
Nilson nodded in understanding, his face filled with determination and hope.
Aron, however, was different. His brow was furrowed—not because of his client's case, but because of a far more troubling question occupying his thoughts: how that woman had known about the car that recorded everything that night.
Interesting, he murmured silently.
The drive to the Manhattan District Attorney's Office didn't take long. As soon as the car stopped in front of the building, James Aron stepped out after telling Nilson to wait inside the car.
He stepped inside without hesitation. As if he already knew where he was going, Aron moved through the building with confident strides—aware of which corridors to take and, more importantly, exactly who he needed to see.
Aron walked along the second-floor hallway, passing several doors before stopping in front of one bearing a nameplate:
[Diana R. Weiss – Senior Assistant District Attorney]
He knocked three times, not too hard.
"Yes, coming!" a woman's voice called from inside.
Aron turned the doorknob and stepped in.
"Hi, Diana," he greeted.
"Oh, hi…" the woman replied, slightly surprised as she looked up from her desk. "James Aron?"
"Yes, that's me," Aron nodded, gently closing the door behind him.
Diana returned her attention to her work for a moment, though her eyes remained on him.
"What brings you here?" she asked.
"You're handling the Nixon Carter case, right?" Aron went straight to the point.
"Nixon? Which case is that?" Diana wrote for a moment before looking up at him.
"The assault case at the Roy Bean Pub parking lot," Aron replied.
Diana's pen stopped mid-motion. Her gaze sharpened as she studied him.
"Why are you asking about that case?"
"I'm his defense attorney now," Aron said simply.
Diana nodded slowly, leaning back in her chair. "The evidence already shows your client is guilty. I don't think there's much point in you defending him…"
Aron gave a thin smile, his eyes sharp.
"On my way here, I kept wondering…" he said calmly. "Why would the police arrest a man for punching a drug dealer? Did it ever occur to you that he might have acted because he refused to buy drugs—or because he despised the dealer? Besides, my client is a doctor."
Diana's expression turned serious.
"Aron, this country runs on the rule of law. Whether the man is a drug dealer or not, if he wasn't the one who started the fight, the case still has to be investigated."
"Alright…" Aron nodded. "And you're confident the police arrested the right person?"
"Let's be honest, Aron. If you have evidence proving your client's innocence, show it."
Aron pulled his phone from his pocket, scrolled briefly, then handed it to Diana.
"I want you to release my client immediately," he said evenly. "And instruct the police to issue a formal letter of apology to him."
Diana took the phone and watched the footage displayed on the screen. Shock flickered across her face.
"Mason Bryant… the only son of Judge Robert Bryant. I've heard rumors that Robert Bryant is the President's top pick for the next U.S. Supreme Court Justice," Aron said, his gaze steady and unyielding. "Why bury this case? Why let it drag on until an innocent man gets arrested?"
"Where did you get this footage?" Diana asked, still looking at him.
"That's not something you need to know," Aron replied calmly. "Just release my client."
Diana let out a thin smile, studying Aron for a moment before turning her attention back to the phone.