Every head in the room turned.

Voss's composure held for exactly two seconds.

Then it crumbled.

"That's..." He stood. "That's ridiculous. You have no proof..."

"Zoe."

Zoe stepped forward. Tablet in hand.

She played the transmission log.

Timestamps, routing data, the encrypted signal mapped to Voss's personal device.

Then the security footage: Voss entering the Nightrunner wing at 2:14 AM, accessing Rowan's terminal, leaving seven minutes later.

"This is fabricated," Voss said. His voice pitched higher. "She's framing me..."

Zoe played the audio.

She'd cracked the encryption overnight, and the recording was clean.

Voss's voice, unmistakable, speaking to someone whose responses came through distorted, layered with the dark resonance that...