Chương 9
“You still think about that,” she said.
“I think about a lot of things.”
“No.”
Her voice softened.
“You think about the things you didn’t do.”
Daniel looked away.
That was the problem with Karen.
She noticed things people worked hard to hide.
His phone buzzed again.
This time he answered.
“Emily.”
Silence came first.
Then her voice.
“Are you okay?”
The question was too simple.
He looked at Karen.
He looked at the documents.
He looked at his own name on the screen.
“I’m suspended.”
Emily exhaled slowly.
“Daniel.”
“I didn’t do it.”
“I know.”
The certainty surprised him.
“You do?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Because you still leave your socks next to the bed even after I ask you not to.”
He almost smiled.
Almost.
“And because you panic when you have to lie about small things.”
He rubbed his forehead.
“That’s not exactly a compliment.”
“It is today.”
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Then Emily lowered her voice.
“Someone from the company called me.”
Daniel closed his eyes.
“What did they say?”
“They asked if you had been under stress lately.”
The room became quieter.
Karen noticed his expression change.
“What is it?”
Daniel covered the phone.
“They called my wife.”
Karen’s face hardened.
“That wasn’t part of the investigation.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
The answer came immediately.
Too immediately.
Daniel noticed.
“Karen.”
She looked at him.
“I don’t know everything happening here.”
That was the first honest thing anyone had said all day.
He appreciated it.
He also feared it.
After the meeting ended, Daniel was required to hand over his company laptop.
The security employee who collected it avoided conversation.
His name was Brian.
Daniel had eaten lunch with Brian twice during overtime weeks.
Now Brian would not meet his eyes.
“I’m sorry,” Brian said quietly.
“For what?”
Brian looked at the laptop in his hands.
“I don’t know.”
That was somehow worse.
Outside, the cold air hit Daniel’s face.
He stood beside his car without unlocking it.
The parking lot moved around him.
People walked past carrying bags, talking about weekend plans, complaining about traffic.
The world had the nerve to continue.
His phone showed another message from Emily.
Come home before you read anything online.
He opened his browser anyway.
The first article was already there.
Local company engineer investigated after suspected internal leak.
His picture was attached.
The photo was from a charity event two years earlier.
He remembered taking it because Emily had forced him to wear a jacket instead of his usual work shirt.
He looked like someone who trusted the future.
He hated that person.
Then he noticed something strange in the article.
A quote from an unnamed source.
The source claimed Daniel had been struggling financially.
Daniel read the sentence three times.
He had never told anyone at work about the medical bills from his father’s accident.
Not even Karen.
Not even Lucas.
Someone was not just accusing him.
Someone was building a story around him.
He finally unlocked his car.
Before he drove away, he called the only person he had not spoken to yet.
Lucas Bennett answered after three rings.
“Daniel?”
His voice sounded cautious.
“I need your help.”
There was a pause.
A long one.
“I heard what happened.”
“I figured you did.”
“Everyone did.”
Daniel stared through the windshield.
“I need to know who accessed the archive.”
Lucas did not answer.
“Lucas.”
“I can’t help you.”
The words were quiet.
Daniel felt something inside him drop.
“Why?”
Another pause.
Then Lucas said something that changed the shape of the entire day.
“Because I think I know why they picked you.”
“Because I think I know why they picked you,” Lucas said.
Daniel kept his hand on the steering wheel even though the car was still parked.
“Then tell me.”
Lucas breathed out slowly.
“It wasn’t supposed to be you.”
Daniel looked at the dashboard.
The answer should have made him feel better.
Instead, it made everything colder.
“Who was it supposed to be?”
“I don’t know.”
“You just said you know why they picked me.”
“I know why you were useful.”
The word stayed between them.
Useful.
Not guilty.
Not responsible.
Useful.
Daniel glanced at the office building behind him.
The windows reflected the gray afternoon sky, hiding the people inside who had already decided what kind of person he was.
“Lucas, I need more than that.”
“I know.”
“Then stop talking like you’re afraid of the sentence after the one you’re saying.”
There was silence.
Lucas had always been the kind of person who needed time before speaking.
When he was a junior engineer, he would stare at a problem for ten minutes before touching the keyboard.
Everyone thought he was slow.
Daniel had learned he was careful.
“I found something last week,” Lucas finally said.
Daniel sat up.
“What?”
“An access log.”
“From the archive?”
“Yes.”
“Why were you looking?”
“Because Karen asked me to review unusual activity.”
Daniel frowned.
“Karen asked you?”
“She asked a few people.”
“She didn’t mention that.”
“She probably didn’t want to.”
“Why?”
Lucas laughed quietly, but there was no humor in it.
“Because people at Northline have gotten very good at saying things without saying them.”
Daniel looked at the clock on the dashboard.
He had spent most of the day losing control of his own life.
Now he was trying to collect pieces from people who were scared to hand them over.
“What did the log show?”
“It showed someone accessed the archive using an old administrator credential.”
“Whose?”
Lucas hesitated.
“Daniel.”
“That is not an answer.”
“I know.”
“Whose credential?”
“Yours.”
The parking lot noise seemed to disappear.
A truck door slammed somewhere nearby.
A woman laughed near the entrance.
Someone dragged a trash bin across the pavement.
Normal sounds.
A normal day.
A completely impossible conversation.
“My credential was used?”
“Yes.”
“Then why are you acting like I didn’t do it?”
“Because the access happened four months ago.”
Daniel blinked.
May you like
“What?”
“The credential was used four months ago.”
