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I look closer. The final request catches my eye.

Property Records — Wren Cottage, Hollow Lane

The name hits me before my brain processes it. Wren. My fingers stop moving. Molly notices immediately.

"You know that name."

I don't answer. Not yet. Because after 15 years…

I was never expecting to see it again.

Wren Cottage, Hollow Lane.

It isn't just a name. It's a door I nailed shut years ago. Molly studies my face carefully.

"I take it that's not a coincidence."

"No."

"You know the owner?"

"I used to."

"How well?"

I close the folder before answering.

"Well enough."

She doesn't press. Not immediately. Instead, she reaches across the table and slides another file toward me.

"The property records themselves are normal."

I open the folder. Purchase documents. Tax records. Insurance. Renovation permits from several years ago. Nothing unusual.

"Until you look deeper," Molly says.

She points toward a stack of printed system logs.

"Someone has been accessing archived county records."

"Who?"

"We don't know."

"The requests came from Morrow?"

"They originated from his phone."

"Could someone have spoofed it?"

"Our tech people considered that."

"And?"

"They couldn't prove it."

I skim the reports. Every search starts the same way. Adoption. Birth certificates. Hospital records. Property ownership. Then every search narrows toward one name.