The warehouse felt smaller after the video ended.
The air that once felt clean now pressed heavy against Yvonne’s chest. The sound of sirens outside grew distant.
The screen in her hand was dark but the image stayed.
The man in the chair.
The smile.
The calm certainty that this was not over.
Marcus grabbed the phone gently.
“Playback,” he ordered.
The video rolled again, same angle, same lighting, same man. No glitch, no obvious trick.
Adrian watched with a tight jaw.
“That is him,” he said.
Marcus did not answer right away, he studied the video carefully.
“It is him,” he agreed slowly. “But that does not mean this is now.”
Yvonne forced herself to breathe.
“Time stamp says one hour ago,” she whispered.
“That can be faked,” Marcus replied.
“Yes,” she said. “But why fake it
