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She doesn’t hide it.
“…not directly,” she says.
“Indirectly,” I press.
A beat.
Then—
“I flagged something once,” she admits.
“What kind of something?”
Her gaze hardens.
“An anomaly in a transfer chain.”
Yeah.
That tracks.
“What happened?” I ask.
“They shut it down.”
“Fast?”
“Immediate.”
That’s not normal.
That’s control.
“And the file?” I ask.
Her jaw tightens.
“It disappeared.”
Jase
Yeah.
That’s not just oversight.
That’s involvement.
“You were on their radar,” I say.
Her lips press together.
“…I might still be.”
That explains a lot.
Too much.
A sharp crack echoes through the trees—
