Page 70 of The Code of You

I closed my eyes. I already had. God forgive me. I stroked her cheek. "It’s not that simple.”

Sofia turned back to the fish swimming through the artificial coral reef, her eyes lighting up as a seahorse drifted past the glass. I felt a strange longing. When had I last seen the world like that? With such innocence, such wonder? Sofia saw only the beauty of the fish—the colors, the playful movements. She didn’t think about the ecosystem’s complexity, the water filtration, the scientific details. She simply accepted the world as it was, without feeling the need to take it apart and understand every little piece of it.

My phone vibrated and pulled me out of my thoughts. James Williams.

Come to the lab. Now. Urgent

12:33 PM

Cold shot through my veins. My hand on Sofia’s shoulder trembled. They knew something.

"Tía?” She looked up at me, mouth slightly open.

"Everything’s fine, mija,” I murmured. My grip on her shoulder tightened. "I just have to go back to work.”

***

I ran through the institute corridor, yanking my coat from my shoulders. The sleeves tangled and I cursed under my breath. Stay calm. You know nothing. You did nothing. I straightened my collar, but my hands were trembling. I glanced over my shoulder.

The lab was in chaos. Technicians in black suits moved through the workstations. Cables hung from torn-open server cabinets. Someone was photographing the screens and sticky notes. Were they looking for the traitor? No. They couldn’t have traced it back to me. I had been thorough. Fake IP addresses from Russia. Digital fingerprints planted carefully. I had even planted false malware signatures—traces pointing straight to external attackers.

My time with the Legion collective had served me well. Back then we had hacked out of idealism. Exposing corruption, protecting whistleblowers. I knew every trick, every obfuscation technique. How ironic . . . my rebellious past was now saving my ass.

I slammed into someone.

"Dr. Rodriguez.” Williams’s voice had a slight tremor. His hands closed around my shoulders. "Thank God you’re here.”

What the . . .? Williams was never nervous. He was the man who cut budgets and destroyed careers without even blinking. But now his gaze darted around and beads of sweat gleamed on his forehead.

"What’s happening?” I asked.

He gestured toward the conference room. "Hale is here. He’s . . . asking questions. About you. About the whole team. He wants to speak with you.”

My blood went cold. Williams was afraid of Hale. Afraid of what that man could uncover. This was no normal meeting. This was an interrogation.

The conference room was cold. Or maybe that was just Hale. He sat at the end of the table, perfectly upright, hands folded. His suit was impeccably black, his tie mathematically straight. When I entered, he raised his head slowly. "Dr. Rodriguez.” His voice was as precise as a scalpel. "Sit down.”

I sat. Hale’s eyes moved across me like scanners analyzing data. "You worked on the development of Project Dante.”

"Yes.”

"Tell me about the evening the system was compromised.” His eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly, as if he could smell the lies before I spoke.

"I was at home. Already asleep when the alarm came.”

"At 23:47.”

How did he know that down to the minute?

"Yes. I drove to the lab immediately.”

"You arrived at 00:23. Thirty-six minutes.” His fingers tapped silently on the table. "For a distance that normally takes eighteen minutes.”

My mouth went dry. "I had to . . . I had to stop for gas.”

Instead of answering, Hale tapped on his tablet. After a moment he looked up, tilted his head. "Interesting. The telemetry of the company car shows a fuel level of seventy-eight percent at 23:30.”

Damn. I had forgotten he could verify my statements through the car’s onboard system.