Talia's rule is simple. No confrontations, no shortcuts, everything documented twice before we trust it once. I agree to all of it out loud. In my head, I'm already three steps past careful.
We start in the archive room, the same one Renn's been guarding me from for two weeks, except now Talia walks in right beside me with a floor authorization that makes the clerk at the desk stop asking questions.
"Senior broker privileges," she says, sliding the badge across the counter. "We need every contract filed under the acquisition-loan template between twelve and twenty years back."
The clerk, a thin older man who looks like he hasn't seen sunlight since the Exchange was built, raises an eyebrow but doesn't argue. Twenty minutes later, we're sitting at a metal table surrounded by boxes that s
