| VPN USAGE | NEVER |
| UNAUTHORIZED SOFTWARE | 6 DETECTED |
| DATA HANDLING VIOLATIONS | 12 FLAGGED |
April stared. “You’re tracking him?”
"I didn't mean to build this," Jax said, nodding at the dashboard. "It just... happened. Like mold. Or a #REF! error that takes over the whole spreadsheet. Chad kept tripping flags. Over and over. So I added tracking. Then logs. Then a heat map."
“I reported it to HR. Multiple times. They brushed it off. So I kept documenting. Because he’s a serious compliance risk."
A list of login attempts filled the screen.
APRIL-IPHONE (password reset attempted - source: CHAD-IPHONE)
APRIL-LAPTOP (login attempt failed - source: CHAD-IPHONE)
APRIL-WORK-ACCOUNT (password reset attempted - source: CHAD-IPHONE)
April stepped closer, leaning in until the screen filled her vision.
"That's..." She pointed at the source field. "That's my phone."
"Yeah. I tracked the attempts back to him. He's been trying to get into your stuff since this morning." Jax's eyes flicked to her hand and the ring catching the blue server light.
"Started with security flags, password resets, failed logins. Standard monitoring." Jax pulled up more windows, incident reports, timestamps, location data. "This guy clicks through security warnings without reading them. Saves his password in Chrome. Emails himself restricted files so he can work from his personal laptop. He joins airport WiFi and random hotspots. He installed a browser extension last month that's definitely malware because it promised 'productivity hacks.'"
"Oh, and I locked his badge out of the snack room this morning. He's stuck eating that kale cleanse."
Despite everything, the corner of April's mouth lifted before falling again.
The dashboard blinked.
NEW INCIDENTS DETECTED
A new window opened. Calendar logs, deletion history.
Entries populated in real-time.
DELETED: "Happy hour w/ spreadsheet girls" - 2 hours before event
DELETED: "Lunch - Laura" - replaced with "Lunch - Chad"
DELETED:"Dentist 2pm" – new event added "Golf - Chad 2pm"
April's vision narrowed down to just those lines of text. The air left her lungs in a way that felt like falling. The list kept growing.
"He's been doing this for months," Jax said. "He's been in your calendar. Your shared drives. Your email filters. Mostly when you already had conflicts.”
The screen kept updating like a slot machine that only paid out in humiliation. The server fans roared around them. The blue lights blinked.
She’d spent three years hearing “Why are you making this weird?” and “April, you said you’d do this.” Three years of backing down because his version sounded steadier than hers.
And here was eight months of documentation that all of it was a lie. Someone else had identified it. Built the receipts. Presented it to her as a tracker of red flags.
Three years of thinking maybe I was remembering wrong while my brain quietly archived everything that felt off.
She tried to make it smaller. Maybe it was accidental. Maybe I’m—
