The series mainly explained what happened: That a Chicago detective framed more than 50 people for murders they say they didn’t commit. Simply explaining the machinations of that scandal demanded so much of our readers. I figured the book format would expand to ask why and how the responsible parties and institutions failed to stop the largest framing scandal in American history. But my characters showed me this story is about so much more. Particularly, they showed how the criminal court system has mostly been run by men but fixed by women. Specifically, women of color. Secondly, the book seeks to expand the white/Black paradigm in criminal justice discussions to include Latinos. So little research explores Latino-police relations even though what little we do know shows that Latinos are disproportionately shot by police and are the least likely to have their murders solved.

Roughly a dozen men remain incarcerated based on the police work of this discredited detective. Dozens more have completed their sentences and still have “convicted murderer” show up on background searches when applying for jobs and apartments. Prosecutors, though, continue to fight exonerating most of these cases. On the most simplistic level, I’d hope that even more reporting will ease the path to exoneration for those convicted under dubious at best, preposterous at worst, police and prosecutorial practices.

On a structural level, I’m aiming to help readers think through the questions they should be asking of their own police departments and district attorneys. Are best practices used for  lineups? What’s the complaint process like for police? How do prosecutors treat jailhouse informant testimony?

On a narrative level, I’d also like to highlight the invisible work that’s been done for decades by mothers, sisters, daughters and aunts of those incarcerated.

Clear communication has been key. I’m asking people to share some of their most personal experiences with me. With that request, often comes blurred lines and a sense of intimacy. Sources call just to chat and, per previous conversations, they know to tell me when they share something they don’t want to see published. Other times, I explain that as much as I’d like to help the source with, say, an overdue bill, that doing so could jeopardize the aims of the story we’re telling together.

It’s easier when it’s time to sit down at the computer. Vetting and corroborating information ensures that I’m not allowing a personal bond I may have with a source interfere with what appears on the page. Sometimes, when I know the facts of the story and the feelings of a source will collide, it’s back to open communication.