My own password manager had autofilled the credentials.
“I spoke to her on the phone.”
“When?”
“Two weeks ago.”
“Was it Claire?”
“Of course it was.”
“Did you see her?”
My mouth went dry.
Not for six weeks.
The audit had begun with in-person meetings at a quiet office downtown.
Claire Donnelly, gray-haired, precise, allergic to vague answers.
Then she had moved our meetings online.
Security, she said.
Too many irregularities.
After that, audio calls only.
Then encrypted email.
“I know her voice,” I said.
Liam’s expression was careful.
“You were dealing with a firm that handles confidential investigations. Would changing an email domain ever be normal?”
“No.”
“Would you miss it?”
The question hurt more than I expected.
“No.”
But I had.
I thought of the night Ethan saw the email.
We have concerns regarding the Northline-linked disbursements and recommend immediate preservation of records.
I had assumed he was reacting to the audit.
