POV: Ethan
Delacroix had the security logs spread across the small conference table by seven in the morning, before most of the floor had even turned its lights on.
Clara sat across from him with a laptop open. Legal counsel, a woman named Priya Okafor whom I trusted more than half my board, sat at the end taking notes she wouldn’t type up anywhere official.
“Walk me through it,” I said.
Delacroix pulled up a floor plan. “The archive badge reader logged one entry at 9:52 last night. Marisol’s credentials, same as the earlier files.
But here’s what’s strange.” He tapped the screen. “The badge reader on the stairwell door two floors down logged an exit four minutes later.
Whoever this is didn’t wander. They went straight to the cabinet, straight to the file, straight out. No hesitati
