Ethan's hand curled into a fist at his side, but slowly relaxed. He wasn't here to explode. He was here to observe, to calculate, to allow the truth to work the way truth always did: quietly at first, then suddenly devastating.
Rowan glanced at him. "You all right?"
"I'm fine," Ethan replied. "I'm just thinking."
"Thinking what?"
"That she believes she still has control."
Rowan huffed a quiet acknowledgement. "People like her always do."
A fresh alert pinged on the console: Restoration complete. External audio fragments.
Rowan clicked through, opening the recovered sound clips. The first few seconds were incomprehensible static. Then a voice cut through: "Distraction... violation... wrong influence..."
Vivian.
Rowan's expression hardened. "She's digging her own grave."
"Good," Ethan said. "Let her keep digging."
Another alert chimed softly on the console: Public address system available.
Rowan raised an eyebrow. "She didn't lock this down?"
"She's sloppy when she's scared," Ethan replied.