The music continued playing, but it sounded far away.
I stood in the middle of the hall, the silver medallion cold in my hand, watching the smiles around me turn into something I could no longer trust.
Victor hurried to my side.
“We're leaving. Now.”
“No,” I said quietly. “If someone here is working against us, I need to know who before they disappear.”
We found the young woman who had raised the alarm. Her name was Sarah, and she sat on a bench outside the hall, trembling but determined.
She handed me the folder she had been clutching. Inside were printed emails, timestamps, and names.
“I didn't want to believe it,” she said. “But messages kept appearing in our group chat. Someone was sending Arthur updates about every meeting, every decision, and every change we made. The digital
