The letter arrived on a Monday.Not digitally. Not through a solicitor. A physical envelope, cream-coloured, addressed in handwriting Daren recognised before he'd turned it over looped, deliberate, designed to look effortless. The kind of handwriting taught at expensive schools to girls who were also taught that the right signature could open any room.Serena.He didn't open it. He set it on the corner of his desk, poured coffee that had gone cold, and looked at it for three seconds. Then he called Noah."Site issue," Noah said, picking up on the first ring. His voice had the particular flatness of a man dealing with something he hadn't told anyone about yet. "Eastern pier survey."Daren put his jacket on. "What kind of issue?""The kind you need to see."He left the envelope on the desk.The eastern bank of the Aldersgate site smelled of river mud and machinery. Noah was standing at the edge of the preliminary excavation with Keiko Chen, who had been working for Meridian for exactly

Marco Vance, it turned out, had a very good lawyer.Daren found the appeal ruling in forty minutes of public records searching faster than he should have, which meant someone had wanted him to find it. The appeal had been filed on procedural grounds: chain of evidence, specifically the handling of the hard drive data in the period between recovery and formal submission to the regulatory board. Three weeks of the driver's custody were, according to Marco's legal team, inadequately documented.The appeal didn't overturn the conviction. It suspended enforcement pending a compliance review. Marco was out on conditions no contact with co-respondents in the original case, restricted travel, weekly check-ins.Hartfield Geotechnical was not technically a co-respondent.Daren put his phone face-down on the desk and looked at the ceiling for ten seconds.Then he called Detective Lena Park.She picked up on the second ring, which told him she had been expecting his call."You already know," he s

They found the first documents at seven point one metres, encased in a waterproof industrial sleeve, the kind used to protect paper records from moisture, the kind a careful person used when they intended to bury something and retrieve it later.The sleeve had not been retrieved.It was eleven fifteen at night. Keiko had both hands in the excavation trench, Noah stood above with a site lamp, and Daren crouched at the edge watching her work with the precision of a woman who treated every layer as a crime scene."There's more than one," she said. "Three at minimum. Maybe five.""Don't open them here," Daren said. "Extract them intact, photograph in situ, chain of custody from point of removal." He looked at Noah. "Park needs to be here.""She's twenty minutes out," Noah said. He'd called her before they'd started digging. The man had good instincts.Keiko extracted the first sleeve. It was sealed with professional-grade waterproof tape, double-wrapped, intact. She held it up in the lamp

The name on Elara's notepad was Commander Julius Hane.Head of the Cross-Commission Evidence Committee. Former army intelligence. Decorated. Trusted. The man who had personally referred Daren Cole's disaster case to the forensic investigation unit and who had, in doing so, placed Elara Song directly inside it.Daren read the name twice and said nothing."He referred to the case," Elara said carefully, "because he already knew what was in it. He needed someone credible inside the investigation. Someone whose eventual discrediting would collapse the evidence chain from the inside.""He chose you," Daren said, "because of Stonegate.""Because I had a Stonegate connection he could weaponise later." Her voice was steady, but her jaw had tightened. "I was always the contingency. The backup story. If the evidence survived Marco's legal maneuvering, they'd use me to make it radioactive."Daren stood up from his chair. Slowly. The way a man stands when the weight of a thing has finally settle

Elara put her hand on Daren's arm before he could speak.Not a warning. A direction.She was looking at the phone on Marco's passenger seat. Then at Marco. Her voice came out flat and professional and completely without heat."You can stop the recording," she said. "Or I can note the time, log the attempt, and add it to the file I am personally submitting to the commission at six a.m." She paused. "Your choice."Marco's jaw shifted. He picked up the phone. Held it up … screen facing them … and ended the recording."It wasn't for Rae," he said. "It was for me.""Talk," Daren said.Marco looked at him for a long moment. The street was quiet. Somewhere close, a distant siren rose and fell."Rae approached me four months ago," Marco said. "He already knew about the hard drive. He knew you had it. He wanted me to offer you a deal with enough capital to disappear cleanly, a new identity, structured payments. Gone. Silent. No trial.""You didn't deliver it," Daren said."No.""Why."Not a qu