Dominic opened the blue folder with one hand while the other remained braced against the table between Marco and me.
The first page was smeared at the corner where coffee had reached it, but the numbers were still visible.
A list of access times.
Employee credentials.
Three attempted logins from my workstation after the building had supposedly emptied for the night.
Marco stared at the page as though it had grown teeth.
“What is that?” he demanded.
I stood beside Dominic’s chair, my wet skirt clinging to my knees and my ankle throbbing from the fall.
Eight men watched me with the same attention they usually reserved for Dominic.
I hated it.
I also understood that leaving now would be exactly what Marco wanted.
So I placed both hands on the table and forced my voice to remain steady.
“An access report from my computer.
I found the warning Wednesday morning.
Someone used my credentials at 11:43 Tuesday night.”
Marco recovered quickly.
“That proves nothing.
You could have printed it to protect yourself.”
“The report was generated automatically by the building’s security system,” I said.
“I requested the original before I printed it.
The original can’t be altered from my account.”
A man seated halfway down the table turned the page toward himself.
His expression sharpened.
“There are four badge entries attached.”
Marco looked at him.
“Then read the name.”
The man’s eyes lifted slowly.
“Alyssa Monroe.”
Marco smiled.
It was the smile of a man who thought the blade had finally landed.
“There,” he said.
“Her badge entered the executive floor.
Her credentials moved the money.
What else do you need?”
My stomach dropped even though I had expected it.
Dominic did not react.
He simply turned to me.
“Where was your badge Tuesday night?”
“In my purse.”
“Where was your purse?”
“With me at St.
Catherine’s Hospital.”
Marco laughed again, louder this time.
“Convenient.”
I reached into the folder and removed the second page.
“The hospital recorded my arrival at eight twelve.
My mother went into surgery at nine.
I didn’t leave until Wednesday morning.”
I placed the parking receipt, visitor record, and payment statement beside the access report.
The documents were ordinary things.
Cheap paper.
Faded ink.
A coffee stain spreading toward the hospital logo.
But in that room, they carried more weight than a weapon.
Marco’s smile faded.
“Anyone could have used her badge,” one of the men said.
