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“Yes.”

“By who?”

“I cannot tell you.”

“Cannot or won’t?”

“Both.”

Heat climbed my neck, up past my collar, into my face. “Great.”

The word came out flat, useless. I laughed once because the alternative was screaming.

“So let me understand.” I counted it out on my fingers. “Yesterday my records were wrong. Sera’n tells me to stop looking. This morning he disappears. Someone searches my room, orders me into reassessment, and now apparently I’m a data thief.”

“That is the allegation.”

“Based on what?” I spread my hands. “What am I actually supposed to have done?”

He said nothing.

My anger sharpened. “Based on what?”

“Access records.”

“I work there.” I jabbed a finger at the deck. “I access records every day.”

“Restricted access records.”

“Sera’n opened those.” My voice rose, and I forced it back down. “Sera’n opened those, not me.”

“Some were accessed under your credentials.”

I stared at him. “That’s impossible.”

His attention sharpened. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Why?”

“Because after Sera’n closed the archives, I couldn’t get back in.”

“When?”

“Yesterday.”

“Time.”

I told him.

His eyes changed.

Not much. Enough.

“What?” I demanded, leaning in too. “What was that? You know something.”

“Nothing.”

“That was not nothing.” I watched his face, but it gave me nothing back. “You did a thing with your eyes. You know something.”

He ignored me and activated the transport door.