Chapter 12 · The Order With Her Name On It

The door opened.

Charlotte's hand was still on the scanner, her fingerprint glowing green against the steel plate. The lock had recognized her. Nine years ago.

She didn't remember coming here. She didn't remember this building, this hallway, this door. But the system knew her palm better than she did.

Marcus pushed past her, gun up, sweeping the archive room. No guards. No tripwires. Just rows of metal shelves and the hum of climate control keeping everything preserved. He moved fast, checking corners, and she stood there in the doorway with her pulse hammering in her ears.

"You coming or what?" Marcus didn't look back.

She stepped inside. The air tasted sterile, cold. Her boots made no sound on the concrete floor. Overhead, fluorescent lights flickered once, twice, then steadied.

Marcus was already at the first terminal, fingers flying over the keyboard. "Your print's dated March 2018. That mean anything to you?"

"No."

"You sure?"

"I said no."

He glanced at her, and for a second something almost like pity crossed his face. Then it was gone. "Files are segmented. Looks like your clearance is higher than mine. You're gonna have to pull them."

Charlotte moved to the terminal.