Chapter 7 - THE WRONG THING I DID WITH HIS LAPTOP
Fear can make bad decisions look like evidence preservation.
Three days after my fracture, Trent left his work laptop on the dining table.
Unlocked.
I opened it.
I searched my name.
Then:
stairs.
Sylvia.
incident.
Alessio.
domestic.
I found a folder called:
PERSONAL — S.W.
My pulse went wild.
Inside were drafts of household statements.
One read:
Sylvia’s injury resulted from an accidental fall during a marital disagreement. No physical aggression occurred.
Another:
The matter is private and does not implicate Trent Walsh’s professional responsibilities.
I photographed them.
Then copied the folder to a USB drive.
Bad.
The laptop was Trent’s work device.
Some material belonged to his employer.
One document was clearly from his lawyer.
Privileged.
I should have stopped.
I did not.
Later that night, I told my own attorney what I had done.
She closed her eyes.
“Do not open the USB again.”
“I need the files.”
“You need clean evidence.”
“He’ll delete them.”
“Then we preserve through proper process.”
I surrendered the drive to a neutral lawyer.
Privileged material was screened out.
Relevant nonprivileged documents later had to be obtained independently through subpoenas and company systems.
My copying changed access metadata.
Trent’s lawyer would use that.
Correctly.
May you like
My fear did not make every method lawful.
That lesson would matter at trial.
