PASCAL
The conference room felt colder than usual, though the thermostat hadn’t moved a degree. Morning sunlight spilled across the long glass table, catching the polished edges and scattering pale reflections onto the walls. My senior team sat in uneasy silence, their expressions shifting between curiosity and caution.
I didn’t waste time on pleasantries. “We had an information leak two nights ago,” I began. “It was small, but small leaks turn into floods if ignored.”
They exchanged glances. Nora sat nearest to me, tablet open, stylus poised over the screen ready to take notes.
“Where are we with the trace?” I asked.
She cleared her throat. “The breach originated from an IP, tied to the audit division of Mrs. Anderson's company. Samuel Lee’s terminal, specifically. We verified timest
