The keystrokes felt, to Wren, like the loudest sound in the world.
She watched Desmond's face in the harsh hospital light — the tight focus of a man who'd spent a decade building toward this exact moment, now compressing years of careful preparation into ten frantic minutes — and understood that whatever happened next would define the rest of her life in ways she couldn't yet fully comprehend.
"Sourcing's solid," Desmond murmured, half to himself, scrolling through documents with fast, practiced eyes. "Financial records, the ledger, Marcus's testimony, Dutch's account, the photograph placing Vance with Elias Webb at the mill — it's not perfect, but it's more than enough to force an immediate federal response. Once three major outlets have it simultaneously, killing the story becomes impo
