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“I already have.”

“The copy.”

His eyes moved to mine. “What?”

“The copy you showed me before was the operational layer.”

He went very still.

I knew that stillness now. Shoulders locked. Breath held a beat too long.

“You have another version.”

Silence.

My stomach tightened. “Veyr.”

“It is not relevant to the trace.”

That was the wrong answer. Not because of what he said. Because of how fast he said it. No pause. No consideration. Just the words, already formed, already waiting.

“What is it?”

“Original intake packet.”

I stared at him. “Unredacted?”

His silence answered.

Something cold moved through me, slow, like water finding a crack.

“You have had that this entire time?”

“No.”

“When did you get it?”

“After I began auditing the mission.”

“That is not a time.”

“Recently.”

I took a slow breath and let it out through my nose. “Open it.”

His jaw tightened, a faint muscle flickering near his temple. He did not look at me, but at the wall just beyond my shoulder as if the answer were written there.

“Talia.”

“Open it.”

“There are details you already know.”

“That was not what I asked.”

For a moment, I thought he was going to refuse. His hand stayed flat on the table. His mouth pressed thin.

Then something in his face shifted.