SOPHIE BARELY slept.
After Matthew left her apartment the previous night, she had remained at her desk long after midnight, staring at the anonymous files that had arrived on the flash drive.
At first glance, the records looked legitimate.
The transfers followed recognizable financial patterns. The shell companies appeared professionally constructed. The cryptocurrency transactions moved through multiple wallets before arriving at their destinations. Whoever had assembled the files knew what they were doing.
That was what worried her. Amateurs made mistakes, but professionals buried them.
By three in the morning, her eyes burned from staring at spreadsheets and transaction histories, but she still had not found the answer she was looking for.
The numbers refused to cooperate. The tim
