Seven years.
Long before the condo fight.
Long before Brittany’s pregnancy.
Long before Jamal asked to use my bathroom and walked into my home office.
My voice stayed even. “That is impossible. I did not meet Jamal until Brittany brought him to Thanksgiving four years ago.”
“I know.”
Cold spread down my spine.
Agent Mercer lowered his voice.
“Ms. Vale, there are scanned copies of your tax records, old medical documents, early company incorporation papers, and internal Aegis emails on that drive.”
I stopped breathing.
Internal Aegis emails.
Not personal mail.
Not stolen bank statements.
Company emails.
Only a handful of people had access to those early servers.
“Who touched the files?” I asked.
“We are tracing that now.”
“Agent Mercer.”
“Ms. Vale—”
“Who touched the files?”
Another pause.
This one longer.
Then he said, “One recurring access signature appears in the metadata. It predates Jamal. It predates Apex.”
