Chapter 8: Unsettled

The sunlight had already crept halfway into the room by the time Andrew cracked his eyes open. 9:02 a.m.

He sighed, rubbing his face. Two hours late.

He wasn't the kind of person to sleep in, not unless something had kept him up—and last night, something had. Between analyzing the footage for the hundredth time and cross-referencing the financial logs for any anomalies, his mind hadn't shut off until past 3 a.m.

Dragging himself out of bed, he shuffled to the bathroom, brushing his teeth on autopilot, then stepped into the shower. The water was lukewarm—he didn't have the energy to make it hot. Everything about this morning was slower than usual, but maybe that was okay. His parents weren't home, and his role, unlike most, wasn't bound by time clocks or dress codes. It was information he dealt with. Surveillance, patterns, inconsistencies. And sometimes, lies.

By 9:40, he had a steaming mug of coffee in hand, the aroma helping to burn off the fog in his head. He sat in the living room, flipping open his laptop and several physical files sprawled across the table. He wasn't working on a single thing—he was juggling many. Quietly monitoring every wire transfer linked to Velmonte Technologies, tracking where the money was going, who was receiving it, who was suddenly switching loyalties. Every number told a story. And some stories were dirtier than others.

His phone buzzed. He glanced at the caller ID.

Alexander Velmonte.

Andrew leaned back in his chair and picked up, voice calm. "Yeah?"

Alexander didn't waste time with pleasantries. "Any updates on the report?"

Andrew didn't have to ask which report. "I'm working on it," he said, eyes still flicking over a spreadsheet. "It's just—her records are clean. Too clean. University, family, employment history—no red flags, no inconsistencies."

There was silence on the line.

Then Alexander asked, "Are you still on the call?"

Andrew blinked, realizing he'd gone quiet. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm here. It's just… there's one thing I could check. Something that might help."

Alexander waited.

Andrew hesitated, then said it. "The tattoo. On her waist. It's the only thing we saw clearly on the intruder. If Emily has the same tattoo…"

He didn't finish the sentence.

Alexander's voice came through, cold and direct. "Then think of something. And let me know."

Andrew exhaled slowly. "Okay."

The call ended. The phone went dark in his hand.

He stared at the files in front of him, but they were already a blur. The problem wasn't that he suspected Emily. It was that everything about her seemed so… wrongfully perfect. Like someone had wrapped her profile in glass and made sure it wouldn't crack.

And now he had to figure out a way to see something no one in the office would ever be able to ask to see.

He placed the phone down slowly, tapping his finger against the edge of his mug.

Think of something. Alexander's words echoed in his mind like a challenge and a warning.

He hated this part. The suspicion. The subtle hunt. The possibility that someone innocent could get caught in a web meant for someone else. But this wasn't just about suspicion—it was about proof. And if Emily really was connected to the break-in, then the tattoo was the only thread left to pull.

He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and stared at the image frozen on his laptop screen—zoomed in from the security footage. The ink was faded in the video, but still visible: a white rose with deep violet petals, inked just above the intruder's waist.

It wasn't a common design. Definitely not the type of tattoo you picked off a wall at a shop. It had detail, meaning. And if Emily had the same one, then there was no more pretending she was just a coincidence.

But how the hell was he supposed to confirm that?

He wasn't the kind of guy to flirt around or invent reasons to hang around female staff. That wasn't him. Besides, Alexander would kill him if he messed this up or made it obvious.

His fingers moved to the keyboard again, pulling up Emily's employee records. He zoomed in on her ID photo. No sign of the tattoo, obviously. Her arms were clean, her smile soft, her appearance polished. Everything about her screamed ordinary. Which made her extraordinary, in the worst possible way.

"Come on, think," he muttered.

Then it hit him.

Her medical files. He hadn't looked into them yet. Not the basic HR health forms, but the confidential background health screenings required for working at Velmonte Technologies. Everyone had one—especially those working in research. The company had strict standards, especially when it came to potential foreign spyware threats or hidden devices. Full-body scans were mandatory during onboarding. And though the visual results were private, someone had access to them.

And he knew exactly who that someone was.

Andrew reached for his second phone—the secure one—and dialed a number buried under layers of encryption.

A woman's voice answered. Cool, professional. "Velmonte Health Division. This is Dr. Sireen."

"It's Andrew."

A pause. "Ah. Hello, Agent Graves. What do you need?"

"I need to take a look at the health onboarding scan for one of the new researchers—Emily Woods."

"Understood. Sending to your secure drive within the hour. Anything else?"

"If there's a tattoo on her waist, confirm it. Specifically a white rose with purple petals."

Another pause, this time a little longer.

"Got it."

The line went dead.

Andrew exhaled, slow and steady. Now, all he could do was wait.

He leaned back into the couch, eyes closed, but rest wouldn't come. Instead, his mind played through the moment he met her again—on the road, completely by chance. Pale green eyes, soft blonde hair. She looked nothing like the woman in the footage… and yet everything like her.

What if she wasn't the one?

What if she was?

Dr. Sireen's POV

Dr. Sireen sat in her small, sterile office, the hum of fluorescent lights above her the only sound accompanying her work. The secure phone call had been quick—Agent Graves didn't like to waste time.

She adjusted her glasses and typed in the access code to retrieve Emily Wards' health scan, pulling it up on her screen with practiced ease. The file opened smoothly, a detailed breakdown of Emily's health assessment—the standard process all new employees went through. Bloodwork, scans, and psychological evaluations, all meticulously organized.

"Here we go," she muttered to herself, scanning the screen.

But as she clicked through the various images, her brow furrowed.

There was no sign of any tattoo—no white rose with purple petals, no design of any kind on Emily's waist. In fact, Emily's waist was curiously absent from the scan. She zoomed in on the area, looking at the body scan's data points—there was a clear outline of Emily's torso, but it stopped abruptly just below her ribs, the lower half of her body strangely cropped out of the scan.

Dr. Sireen sat back in her chair, her fingers hovering over the keys. She ran the file through a secondary program, confirming what she already suspected: the scan had been intentionally altered.

Someone had edited the original health scan.

She was no stranger to these kinds of anomalies. Velmonte Technologies dealt in highly sensitive, classified operations, and it wasn't uncommon for employees to have certain files restricted or modified for privacy reasons. But this—this wasn't normal. This wasn't an oversight.

She clicked through the rest of the scan, her mind racing, searching for any other oddities. That's when she noticed it—a small inconsistency in the file metadata. The timestamp of the scan was inconsistent with the rest of Emily's onboarding documents. It wasn't a large discrepancy, but it was there.

Someone had accessed this scan after Emily's initial screening.

Dr. Sireen's pulse quickened as she ran a search through the system logs. The file had been opened only hours before Agent Graves had called. And someone else had viewed it—not just her. Someone with high clearance. She couldn't access the log names without further permissions, but the intrusion was clear.

With a sigh, Dr. Sireen closed the file and locked the access. This wasn't just an employee health scan—this was a potential breach. Someone was hiding something, and that someone might not be Emily.

But for now, the question remained: Who was pulling the strings?

Dr. Sireen sat back in her chair, a growing sense of unease settling in her stomach. The scan had been tampered with, that much was clear. But who had done it—and why? Was Emily a victim of something larger, or was she complicit in something no one could even imagine?

Her mind raced with possibilities, and with every question, another one seemed to surface. She needed answers, but for now, she had to play it carefully. She couldn't move too quickly; not with such sensitive information.

Her fingers hovered over the phone, then dropped. She hadn't worked in this kind of environment for long without learning the importance of silence. But silence only lasted so long before it became deafening.

Dr. Sireen dialed the number she knew well. It was a secure line, one she only used when the information was too dangerous to risk on a regular network. The call clicked through.

"Hello?" Andrew's voice came through, smooth and steady.

"It's Dr. Sireen," she said, keeping her voice neutral. "I've looked through the health scan, as you requested."

"Anything useful?" Andrew's voice sounded tense, like he already suspected something was wrong.

She paused before answering. "There's something… unusual. The scan was incomplete. Emily's waist—there's no record of it. The area was cropped out."

Andrew didn't respond immediately, the silence stretching for a moment too long.

"You're sure?" His voice now held an edge of urgency. "Was the tattoo missing, too?"

"The tattoo wasn't there," she replied, "but the entire area was cropped. The scan didn't capture it."

"What do you mean by cropped? How does that even happen?"

"I mean someone edited the scan. It's not a glitch. The file has been modified after the original screening," she explained, her mind still racing through the possibilities. "And there's more. The timestamp of the scan doesn't match the rest of her onboarding documents. The file was opened again recently—just hours before you called."

Andrew was quiet, but she could almost hear the wheels turning in his head.

"I'll need more than that," he said, voice low. "Are you sure? I don't want to go off half-cocked here."

"I'm sure," she replied, her tone firm. "But there's one more thing you should know. Someone with high clearance accessed the scan after it was tampered with. I can't tell you who—they've blocked the logs—but the breach is real."

Andrew let out a slow breath, a mix of frustration and determination in his voice. "That complicates things. Thanks for letting me know."

Dr. Sireen hesitated before speaking again. "One more thing… this isn't just about Emily, Andrew. Something bigger is going on here. And if someone is willing to go this far to hide her history, it could mean more than you think."

There was a beat of silence before Andrew spoke again, softer this time. "I'll handle it. Thanks."

The call ended, and Dr. Sireen sat in the quiet of her office, staring at the screen. The pieces didn't fit, but that didn't make the puzzle any less dangerous.

Andrew's hand hovered over the phone, his mind racing. The new information about Emily's health scan was enough to raise alarm bells, but it wasn't concrete—nothing he could hold onto and prove without a shadow of doubt.

Still, there was one person who could help connect the dots: Alexander.

He grabbed his secure phone again, dialing Alexander's number. The seconds stretched out like an eternity before the call was answered.

"Graves," Alexander's voice came through, cool and clipped, the usual detached tone Andrew had grown accustomed to.

"It's me," Andrew said, his voice steady but edged with tension. "I've got some updates on Emily."

There was a brief pause on the other end, and Andrew could almost hear the shift in Alexander's demeanor. He never had to explain himself to Alexander, but this? This was different.

"Go ahead," Alexander replied, his voice sharper now, the weight of the conversation already settling in.

"I had Dr. Sireen look through the health scan," Andrew started. "There's a problem. The waist area of the scan—where the tattoo should be—it's completely cropped out. No sign of any tattoo, but… the scan's been edited. Someone altered it after Emily's initial screening."

"Edited?" Alexander's voice was low now, dangerous. "Who edited it?"

"I don't know. The logs are blocked. But what I do know is that someone with high clearance accessed the file recently. Just hours before you called me. The timestamp doesn't match the rest of the onboarding documents."

There was a long, heavy silence on the other end of the line.

"Is she the one?" Alexander finally asked, his tone cold and unreadable, as if this were just another business transaction.

"I'm not sure, but this doesn't feel right. It's too much of a coincidence. The scan's been tampered with, and now this tattoo—if there's one thing I know, it's that people don't go to these lengths for nothing."

"I need you to confirm whether she's the one," Alexander's voice was sharp, his authority clear. "We can't afford any more mistakes."

Andrew clenched his jaw, frustration creeping in. "I'll do what I can, but someone's clearly hiding something. If it's not Emily, then it's someone protecting her. Either way, this isn't over."

Alexander let out a soft, almost imperceptible sigh. "Do whatever it takes. Keep your distance, Andrew. I don't want this getting out of hand. Report back when you have something concrete."

The call ended abruptly, the line going dead.

Andrew lowered the phone slowly, his thoughts still tangled in the whirlwind of what he'd just learned. Someone with high clearance, someone inside the system, was pulling strings. The scan wasn't the only thing that had been tampered with. If Emily wasn't the intruder, she was still tangled in something far bigger than herself.

He stood up, pacing across the room, trying to work through the maze of questions swirling in his mind.

Whatever it was, he had to find out who was covering up for her—and why.