Chapter 7: The Money Trail

I barely slept that night.

The transaction kept replaying in my head.

A joint research account shouldn't have money leaving the institute without a matching expense report.

Especially not an amount that large.

By eight the next morning, I was back at my desk.

I pulled every financial record connected to the project.

The deeper I looked, the stranger it became.

There were several smaller transfers over the previous six months.

All of them had been approved electronically.

All of them were connected to Callan's project.

But none of them had my administrative approval.

I frowned at the screen.

Someone had deliberately bypassed me.

That was unusual.

I had handled the project's procurement and documentation for years.

If money had been spent legitimately, I would have known about it.

I contacted the finance department.

Within an hour, a senior accountant called me.

Sage, I saw your request. Can you tell me why you're reviewing these transactions?

I'm working on the partnership audit.

There was a pause.

Then she lowered her voice.

Don't mention this over email.

My stomach tightened.

Why?

Because those transfers were already under review before the fire.

I sat back.

What?

The accountant continued carefully.

Someone reported irregularities two months ago. The complaint was anonymous.

Who investigated it?

The internal compliance team.

And what did they find?

Nothing conclusive.

The transactions looked authorized on the surface.

But the receiving company was newly registered.

I wrote down the company name.

Who owns it?

That's the problem. The ownership information was hidden behind a holding company.

My pulse quickened.

Do you have a copy of the original complaint?

I shouldn't give you that.

Please.

I need to understand what I'm looking at.

Another silence.

Fine. I'll send it privately.

The file arrived ten minutes later.

I opened it.

The complaint contained only three pages.

But one sentence made my blood run cold.

Research materials may have been intentionally damaged to conceal unauthorized financial activity.

The fire.

Could someone have started the fire to destroy evidence?

I immediately thought of Elara.

Then I stopped.

I wasn't going to accuse anyone without proof.

A knock came at my office door.

Callan stood there.

You look worried.

I'm working.

He stepped inside anyway.

I heard you were reviewing the project finances.

Who told you?

Our finance department contacted the institute.

He watched me carefully.

Why are you investigating them?

Because something doesn't add up.

Callan's expression changed.

Sage, stop.

I looked up.

Why?

Because you don't know what you're getting involved in.

That sounded less like a warning and more like fear.

What do you know?

Nothing.

You're lying.

His jaw tightened.

You always did this. You pushed until you found something that wasn't your business.

I stood.

My business?

You came into my workplace and asked me to stop investigating financial misconduct.

You don't get to decide what's my business anymore.

He looked away.

I was trying to protect you.

You should have tried that five years ago.

He flinched.

For several seconds, neither of us spoke.

Then he said quietly, There was a reason I kept you away from the research administration.

What reason?

I thought if you stayed out of it, you would be safe.

Safe from what?

Before he could answer, his phone rang.

He glanced at the screen.

Elara.

He declined the call.

A second later, it rang again.

This time, he answered.

What happened?

His expression changed instantly.

I'll be there.

He ended the call and looked at me.

I have to go.

Of course you do.

He hesitated.

Sage...

Don't.

He left.

I watched the door close behind him.

Old habits wanted me to follow.

To ask if Elara was okay.

To make sure Callan had everything he needed.

To fix whatever problem they'd created.

But I stayed in my chair.

That wasn't my life anymore.

An hour later, I received another message from the accountant.

Sage, I found something else.

There was an attachment.

An old access log.

I opened it.

The unauthorized transfers had been made from a terminal inside the restricted research wing.

The same wing where the fire had started.

Then I saw the access record from the night of the fire.

Someone had entered Lab 02 eleven minutes before Elara.

The name attached to the access card wasn't Elara's.

It was Callan's.

I stared at the screen.

Callan had told everyone he arrived only after the alarm sounded.

But the access log said otherwise.

He had been inside the lab before the fire started.

And suddenly, I wasn't sure who I had been protecting all those years.