Chapter 8 · He didn't move. Dorian's mouth tightened. "Read it."

He didn't move.

Dorian's mouth tightened. "Read it."

The officer glanced at him. "Why?"

"Because she won't shut up until you do."

He unfolded the sheet.

I watched his thumb.

Fresh ink stained the side of it. The paper itself was old, but the bottom paragraph had been pressed in afterward. The fibers ran in a different direction. Whoever made the order had copied the text from a blank tribunal form, then added Dorian's execution clause after the seal was applied.

"The second paragraph says the case must be opened before the commander is executed," I said. "But your new sentence says to execute him first. That's not an amendment. It's a separate order glued into the page."

The guard behind Dorian glanced down at the paper.

The officer's jaw flexed. "You're an evidence engineer, not a court clerk."

"I was the engineer who rebuilt the tribunal's evidence presses. I know when a document's been altered." I smiled without warmth. "You don't get to scare me with stationery."

Dorian let out a short, humorless laugh.

The officer turned on him. "You find this funny?"

"A little. She hates paperwork.