Matteo’s eyes narrowed.
“What is it?”
“A conclusion pretending to be evidence.”
Leo folded his arms.
Sophie pointed without touching.
“Every image confirms the same story: Chloe lives at my address.
But there’s nothing here that could disprove it.
No workplace photographs.
No continuous trail.
No record of where the subject goes after leaving the block.
Whoever assembled this wasn’t trying to discover where Chloe lived.”
She looked at Matteo.
“They were trying to convince you that they already knew.”
The warehouse fell silent again.
Matteo turned a page.
There were notes about times Sophie usually left for work.
Her times.
Not Chloe’s.
Monday, 7:12 a.m.
Tuesday, 7:08.
Thursday, 7:19.
Sophie almost smiled, though nothing was funny.
“That’s me.”
Matteo looked up.
“How certain?”
“I catch the 7:34 train on weekdays.
I leave early when the weather is bad.
Whoever recorded this watched me long enough to know my routine.”
Leo stepped closer to the table.
“So they knew she wasn’t Chloe?”
Sophie shook her head.
“Maybe.
Maybe not initially.
But if they watched for more than a few days, they would have seen me go to the same office, carry the same badge, follow the same schedule.
Chloe couldn’t maintain that routine for a week if someone paid her.”
Despite everything, Leo’s mouth twitched.
Matteo did not react.
His attention had moved deeper into the folder.
Sophie recognized the look.
It was the same expression executives wore when an actuarial model stopped being abstract and started costing millions.
“What else?” he asked.
Sophie glanced at him.
“About this kidnapping?”
“About mistakes.”
There it was.
Not an apology.
Not trust.
An invitation to calculate.
Matteo laid several more sheets across the table.
They documented recent losses: vehicles intercepted, storage sites compromised, meetings disrupted, shipments rerouted minutes before trouble arrived.
Sophie had no idea what had been inside the vehicles or warehouses, and she did not ask.
She looked at timing.
Numbers were cleaner than motives.
“Which of these incidents depended on information from the same source that gave you Chloe’s address?”
Matteo’s eyes sharpened.
Leo answered before he could.
