She nodded slowly.
I continued.
“Let's find out what the records establish.”
For the next two hours, the room worked without interruption.
Analysts compared independent data sources.
Security personnel examined the incident timeline.
Program managers documented which recommendations had been made and on what basis.
And legal staff reviewed the authority required for any contingency action.
I remained at the central table.
The orange gown had become uncomfortable.
My shoulder ached.
The marks from the handcuffs were beginning to darken.
But I couldn't allow the physical consequences of the roadside stop to become the reason I stopped asking questions.
At 2:18 a.m., Priya approached carrying a printed summary.
Her expression was serious.
“We found something.”
I looked up.
“Tell me.”
She placed the report in front of me.
“The strongest anomaly reports appear to have been introduced through a coordination process rather than independently generated by the primary monitoring systems.”
I stared.
“Meaning?”
“Meaning we have to consider that someone intentionally created or misrepresented the appearance of a larger compromise.”
Colonel Bell approached.
“Are the systems secure?”
Priya answered carefully.
“We've contained the immediate uncertainty and established independent checks. We have no basis at this moment to declare the entire network compromised.”
I nodded.
“Good.”
Then I looked toward the report.
“Who controlled the coordination process?”
Priya hesitated.
Then answered.
“Evan Rourke's office.”
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
I stared toward the door.
The man whose office had issued the disputed updates was also a man with access to the information needed to anticipate my emergency travel.
I didn't want to believe he could be involved.
Evan had attended retirement ceremonies with me.
Helped arrange difficult agency transitions.
Sat beside my mother at a public awards event when I was unable to accompany her.
He knew Zora's name.
Had once sent her a congratulatory card after a science competition.
But personal familiarity wasn't evidence of innocence.
I looked toward Priya.
“Do we know whether Evan authorized the updates himself?”
“Not yet.”
“Then let's establish that before we draw conclusions.”
She nodded.
I reached for my phone.
A message from Mara Ellis was waiting.
Need to speak. County dispatch records contain an irregular instruction associated with your stop.
I felt cold.
Then another message arrived.
The instruction referenced the vehicle description and your evening attire.