AVA'S POV
The morning air held a strange stillness as I sat on the back patio, a steaming mug of cinnamon tea cupped in my hands.
The sky wore that half-silver shade that meant the sun hadn't quite decided whether to shine or hide. I'd grown to love this hour, that thin sliver of peace before emails, interviews, briefings, or unexpected twists could pull me in ten directions.
But this morning, the twist arrived early and not with the usual subtlety.
Ethan stepped out, a tablet in hand, brows furrowed. "Ava," he said quietly, "you need to see this."
I placed the cup down carefully. "What is it?"
He turned the screen to me.
At first, all I saw was a surveillance capture.
Grainy, timestamped, low-light footage. Then my eyes focused on the man leaning against a black sedan.
Slim build. Face shadowed beneath a cap. But that posture… I knew it.
Carl.
And next to him, someone from our logistics team. Someone with access.
I leaned forward. "Is that from last night?"
