“One of yours,” Vidar replied. “Ultra-private. Firewalled behind your personal authorization layer.”
Alaric stilled.”That’s not possible.”
Vidar inclined his head slightly. “It is if the access originates from her workstation, using her credentials, while she’s physically present.”
Alaric didn’t respond immediately. He read. Line by line. Time stamps. Access vectors. Session continuity. Location verification. He forced his focus to stay narrow, technical, impersonal, even as something ugly and familiar coiled in his chest. This was how damage began, not with proof, but with plausibility. With data that made sense if you didn’t look too closely at the cost.He cataloged the implications with brutal discipline, refusing to acknowledge the quiet pull toward her name, the instinctive resistance rising against the conclusion forming in front of him. Belief was dangerous. Doubt was worse. He let neither reach hisface.
The data was clean.
“Where was the access initiated?” Alaric asked.
“Her workstation,” Vidar replied instantly. “While she was logged in. Cameras confirm she never left her seat.”
Something cold settled deeper in Alaric’s chest. “When?”
“Two weeks ago,” Vidar said. “The morning after you approved her expanded access scope.”
Of course it was. Timing mattered. Patterns mattered. Coincidence was a lie told by people who didn’t want to look harder, and that was the trap closing around him. The sequence fit too neatly to ignore. The access expansion. The proximity. The morning after.
Granted, none of it proved guilt, not on its own, but together it formed a narrative his world was trained to accept. He didn’t believe she was a thief. Not yet. But he couldn’t dismiss the possibility either, and that uncertainty was almost worse. Doubt created space. Space created opportunity. And in hisexperience, the people who suffered most were the ones caught in the pause between proof and action.
Vidar straightened, voice sharpening. “You know what this means.”
“It means we investigate.”
“It means we erase her,” Vidar corrected. “Before she has time to move whatever she took.”
Alaric lifted his gaze slowly.The air shifted.”That decision isn’t yours,” hesaid.
Vidar’s gaze turned cold. “She’s compromised. You don’t keep compromised assets. At least, you never have.”
“She hasn’t been questioned,” Alaric said. “She hasn’t been confronted. You’re assuming theft based on logs.”
“Logs that don’t lie,” Vidar shot back. “You taught me that.”
Alaric didn’t deny it. He studied the screen again, his mind slicing through possibilities with ruthless efficiency.
If the logs were falsified, the actor was sophisticated enough to mirror biometric presence, workstation telemetry, and credential sequencing. That wasn’t casual sabotage.
If thelogs were real…
The thought refused to stay contained. It dragged him backward, unbidden, to the memory of her in his arms. The way she’d looked at him that night, unguarded and intent, as though she’d chosen him rather than maneuvered towardhim.
He replayed the moments with ruthless precision, searching for seams. For calculation. For the faint distance that marked someone protecting themselves in advance of a fall. He wondered, for the first time, whether that night had been genuine—or whether it had been armor. Whether she’d reached for him because she wanted him, or because she’d known a moment like this would come and had prepared for it the only way she could.
The possibility cut deeper than suspicion. It meant she was either far more honest than his world allowed—or far more careful.
He pushed the thought aside.
“Bring her here,” Alaricsaid.
Vidar’s mouth curved. “Gladly.”
Alaric tapped his desk comm and issued the order himself. “Sera Carrington. My office. Now.”
The channel clicked closed.Silence fellbetween themen.
Vidar folded his arms. “I hope you’re not planning to protect her.”
