Chapter 2

The next day at the office was a nightmare. Every conversation stopped when I walked by. I could feel the stares on my back, a mix of curiosity and condemnation.

I spent the morning trying to access the raw server logs to start my own investigation, but my permissions were already being restricted.

Around noon, Matthew texted me. "We need to talk. My office."

I walked in, ready to confront him, to show him the preliminary traces I' d found that pointed to a different terminal. But he didn't give me the chance.

"I don't think this is working out, Jennifer," he said, not even looking at me, his focus on closing his laptop.

The words hung in the air, cold and clinical.

"What are you talking about, Matthew? We're in the middle of a crisis."

"I'm talking about us," he said, finally meeting my eyes. His were empty of any emotion. "We're not a good fit. It's over."

I was stunned. "It's over? Just like that? After three years? You're breaking up with me now, when I'm being accused of a crime I didn't commit?"

I connected the dots out loud. "This is about the data leak, isn't it? Are you involved in this?"

A flicker of something-fear, maybe-crossed his face before he masked it with anger.

"Don't be ridiculous. My advice to you? Stay out of it. Let the company handle it. It'll be better for you."

He turned his back on me, a clear dismissal.

Numb, I walked back to my own office. The shock of the breakup was mixing with the dread of the accusation, creating a toxic cocktail in my gut.

I stood by my window, looking down at the parking lot, trying to clear my head.

And then I saw them.

Matthew was leaning against his car. Molly was with him. She wasn't crying anymore. She was laughing, her head thrown back. He leaned in and kissed her, a deep, passionate kiss that spoke of familiarity and secrets.

They pulled apart, and he brushed a strand of hair from her face. They looked like a happy couple.

The scene burned into my brain. The breakup. The fake tears. The coordinated attack.

It wasn't just a setup. It was a complete and utter betrayal by the two people I thought were closest to me.

My grief lasted for a full ten seconds. Then, it hardened into something else. Something cold and sharp.

I turned away from the window, went back to my desk, and started a new, encrypted file on my personal drive. The title was simple: "Investigation."