"How long?" I asked.
My voice sounded steady, but inside, nothing felt controlled anymore. My chest was tight, my thoughts moving too fast, trying to connect pieces that didn't fit together.
Adrian Cole didn't answer immediately.
His gaze shifted from the screen to me, slow and deliberate, as if he was more interested in how I reacted than what I had just seen. That silence wasn't empty. It was intentional, like he understood the weight of what I had discovered and was choosing not to interrupt it.
"Long enough," he said finally.
That wasn't an answer.
It was control.
I exhaled slowly, forcing myself to stay composed. "You left it open."
A faint shift in his expression. Not surprise. Not denial.
Something closer to curiosity.
"Did I?" he asked.
The question hung between us, quiet but sharp. It wasn't meant to be answered. It was meant to test me, to see how far I would push.
Then, without urgency, he stepped forward.
Close enough that I could feel the shift in space between us.
Close enough that ignoring him wasn't an option.
He reached past me and closed the file.
Just like that.
No rush.
No tension.
No concern.
As if the document I had just seen didn't matter at all.
That was worse.
"You found it faster than she did," he said.
My stomach tightened instantly.
That wasn't denial.
That was confirmation.
"She saw it?" I asked, my voice quieter now, more controlled.
He didn't respond immediately. Instead, he studied me again, his attention precise, focused. Like he was measuring something I couldn't see.
"She took longer," he said after a moment.
A pause followed.
"She was more careful."
The words settled heavily.
It wasn't just about her.
It was about me.
I wasn't being compared casually.
I was being evaluated.
"You knew I would come here," I said.
This time, he didn't avoid it.
"I expected you might."
Not certainty.
But not doubt either.
"Why?" I asked.
He moved slightly closer again, not aggressively, not forcefully, but enough to shift the air between us.
"To see what you'd do when you did."
A test.
Everything here was a test.
Every move I made.
Every decision.
Every reaction.
Before I could respond, something sharp cut through the silence.
My phone vibrated.
The sound felt wrong in this space.
Too sudden.
Too out of place.
I froze for a second, then slowly reached for it.
Unknown number.
My pulse picked up as I opened the message.
"You shouldn't be there."
My breath caught slightly.
Another message came in immediately after.
"He knows."
My grip tightened around the phone.
No.
That didn't make sense.
If he knew—
This wouldn't be a conversation.
This wouldn't be a test.
This would already be over.
Unless…
Another message appeared.
"You walked into the same trap."
My breathing slowed, not because I was calm, but because I needed control. Panic wouldn't help me now.
"Who is this?" I typed.
The reply came almost instantly.
"The one who knows what happened to your father."
Everything inside me went still.
That wasn't random.
That wasn't a guess.
That was truth.
My fingers hovered over the screen, my mind racing.
If this person knew about my father… then they were connected.
To him.
To this place.
To everything.
"What do you want?" I typed.
This time, the response took longer.
Long enough to feel deliberate.
Then—
"The document you just saw."
My heart slammed against my chest.
Impossible.
No one should know that.
Unless—
My thoughts snapped back instantly.
To the room.
To the system.
To him.
To the possibility that nothing here was private.
Another message came in.
"Your sister tried to take it."
My breath caught.
The words hit harder than anything else.
Tried.
Which meant she didn't succeed.
"And now?" I typed quickly, my fingers tightening slightly.
The pause this time was longer.
Heavier.
Then—
"Now she's paying for it."
Cold.
Final.
A chill ran through me, sharp and immediate.
I looked up slowly.
At Adrian Cole.
He was still watching me.
Not reacting.
Not questioning.
Just observing.
And in that moment, something shifted inside me.
This wasn't just about finding my sister anymore.
It wasn't just about pretending to be her.
It wasn't even just about the truth.
I had already stepped too far into this.
Because whatever she got involved in…
Whatever she tried to take…
Whatever this place was hiding…
I was no longer outside of it.
I was already part of it.