My sister framed me for a hit-and-run—and my parents expected me to take the blame, until the truth came out and changed everything

what I was saying, and what I had access to, began to wash over him like ice water.

I bypassed the security firewall, accessed the raw backend server logs for the real estate firm’s fleet, and filtered the database by the specific VIN number of the wrecked SUV.

A massive wall of raw, unformatted code flooded my screen.

“Modern luxury SUVs are not just cars, Detective. They are rolling three-ton data servers,” I explained, translating the raw code into a clean, readable dashboard interface.

I turned the phone back to