The papers had been in the same order for the third time now, James's hands moving through them the same way they'd moved through them twenty minutes ago, a man doing something physical with his hands because the productive options had run out. The access request sat where it had been sitting for days — "under review," the notification unchanged, the stall holding the same shape it had taken the morning it arrived.
Then his email chimed.
He opened it. Read it once. Read it again, slower.
Michael's office. The locked folder. Full access, effective immediately. The broader financial archive included, as broad as James had specified in his original request weeks ago. No explanation for the reversal. No caveat attached, no condition named, just the access itself — granted.
He sat with the
