She enlarged the display. The activity was faint but purposeful, like fingerprints left on glass.
“They didn’t try to break in,” she explained. “They didn’t guess passwords or force anything open. They used an old service account that was still technically valid and quietly checked whether the door was unlocked.”
Alaric’s mouth tightened. “Which account?”
“A dormant vendor account tied to old reporting software,” she said. “It should have been dead. It wasn’t.”
“So they rattled the handle,” hesaid.
“Yes. They tested a few permissions, looked at the structure, and then stopped,”Sera said. “They weren’t stealing. They were confirming whether access was possible.”
“And now they know it is,” Alaricsaid.
“They know itwas,”she corrected gently. “Because we’ll make sure it isn’t anymore.”
There it was. The reason she’d come straight to him instead of routing this through the layers of people who existed to slow decisionsdown.
Alaric’s voice stayed even. “Why now?”
Sera breathed in, then out. Asmall pause that wasn’t uncertainty. It was care. She knew he didn’t need comfort. She still offered truth gently when she could.”I don’t think it’s random,” she said. “And I don’t think it’s external.”
He already suspected that. Hearing it from her made it real.”Internal,” hesaid.
“Or someone who has internal intelligence,” she replied. “Someone who knows we have legacy mirrors. Someone who knows how to probe without tripping obvious alarms.”
Alaric walked to the far end of the room and back again, one slow circuit as he thought. Cold logic, not pacing. He didn’t do restless.
“List everyone who knows the mirrorexists,” hesaid.
“I already did,” she answered. “And then I listed everyone who might know about it indirectly. People who’ve overheard things. People who’ve seen old documentation. People who’ve been in the wrong room at the wrong time.”
He stopped, looking at her. “How many?”
Sera didn’t hesitate. “Too many to be comfortable. Not enough to be impossible.”
That was Sera. Warm, yes. Kind, yes. But not sentimental. She didn’t pretend the world was softer than itwas.
Alaric’s gaze dropped briefly to her hands. Steady. No tremor. Nails neat. No jewelry on her fingers besides a simple band she wore sometimes that wasn’t an engagement ring and never had been. He shouldn’t have noticedthat.
“Why did it hit the legacy mirror instead of the vault?” he asked, forcing his attention back where it belonged.
“Because the vault is new,” Sera said. “Better protected. Better monitored. The mirror is older. The mirror was built in an era when people trusted what they shouldn’t have trusted.”
He made a small sound that wasn’t quite a laugh. “People still do.”
“Not you,” she said.
The words were neutral, professional. Something about the way she said them made his stomach tighten anyway.
Alaric returned to the head of the table. “If we fix this on corporate systems, you said it leaves residue.”
“It does,” she replied. “Even if we do everything right, the fix itself becomes a beacon. Whoever is probing will know we saw them. They’ll adjust. Or they’ll accelerate.”
“And you want to deny them both,” hesaid.
“Yes.”
He watched her for a beat longer than necessary. There was no fear in her eyes. No hesitation. Just steady purpose.”What aren’t you saying?” he asked.
