Claire’s hands were shaking by the time Nathaniel pulled up the document on his laptop, the kitchen island suddenly feeling more like an interrogation table than the place they had kissed for the first time twenty minutes earlier.
“I have never even opened this file,” Claire said, leaning over his shoulder. “I do not have clearance for anything in the development division.”
“That is what worries me,” Nathaniel said, scrolling through the metadata. “Whoever did this either stole your credentials or knew your password well enough to use it without raising a single flag.”
“Who would know that?”
Nathaniel’s jaw tightened. “Almost no one. I do not even know your password.”
The accusation hung unspoken in the air between them, heavy and ugly, and Claire felt her chest tighten with something
