Evelyn looked at the closed folder on the table. "I knew the name."
"Did you recognize her face?"
Another pause. "I'd seen her before."
"That still isn't an answer."
Evelyn's voice hardened slightly. "I'm telling you what I remember."
Benton did not react. "I'm giving you the opportunity to make the record accurate."
Evelyn looked directly at her. "I saw a security officer handling an access problem during one of the worst security mornings we've had in months. There was a protest outside. Everybody was under pressure. I wasn't standing close enough to hear every word."
"You were close enough to speak with Officer Reed."
"He spoke to me."
"And you told him to check the directory."
Evelyn's expression changed. Benton opened the folder. Marcus had not heard that sentence clearly, but Reed had mentioned the exchange during his own interview.
"You told him to verify the name," Benton said. "Why?"
"Because that's what he should have done."
"Because you recognized Maya Williams."
Evelyn stared at the table. "I didn't know what was happening inside that room."
"That's not what I asked."
Silence settled between them.
Finally, Evelyn said, "I knew she was connected to the court."
Benton waited.
Evelyn added, "I wasn't certain about her assignment that morning."
It was carefully worded and technically incomplete. Benton heard the difference.
"Did you know she was a judge?"
Evelyn lifted her purse from the floor. "I've told you everything I'm comfortable stating."
"This isn't about comfort."
"No, it's about my job."
The answer came out before she could stop it.
Benton closed the folder. "No one has threatened your job."
"You don't have to threaten somebody in a courthouse. People know how things work."
"Explain what that means."
Evelyn stood. "It means I have worked here more than twenty years. Security answers to supervisors. Supervisors know administrators. Administrators decide assignments, evaluations, promotions. People remember who creates problems."
"Reporting what you saw is not creating a problem."
"That sounds good in an interview room."
Benton looked at her for a moment. "I'm not asking you to choose sides. I'm asking you to tell the truth."
"I have told you what I saw."
She left before Benton could press further.
Evelyn returned to the clerk floor and sat at her desk. She opened the first case file waiting in her queue but read the same line three times without processing it.
In the bottom drawer beside her knee was an envelope from the county benefits office. She had received it the week before the incident and had checked the figures twice: retirement eligibility, accrued service, projected pension. For years, those numbers had represented stability. She had built her life around reaching them without giving anyone a reason to question her place in the building.
A coworker set a paper cup beside her keyboard. "You skipped coffee."
"Thanks."
"You okay?"