Seventeen-year-old Maya Harrison thought her evening shift archiving files at Apex Architecture in Nashville was going smoothly until she walked into the executive suite.
The next morning, I cornered Greg Gable in the small, fluorescent-lit breakroom, the smell of stale coffee hanging heavy in the air. He was hunched over his phone, scrolling through social media, his uniform shirt a little rumpled.
His eyes widened when he saw me. “Hey, Maya. Everything okay?”
“Greg, about your login records from the other night,” I started, trying to keep my voice even. “Your credentials were used to run a bulk file wipe.”
His face went pale. He dropped his phone on the table with a clatter. “A what? No, that can’t be right. I was at dinner with your family.”
“I know,” I said. “That’s why I’m asking. Did anyone else access your terminal?”
He stammered, running a hand through his already messy hair. “No, but… Julian gave me a script. Said it was an executive order, signed.”
He pushed himself up, pulling a crumpled paper from his back pocket. It was a formal memo, bearing Julian Ross’s signature. My eyes scanned the text.
“Routine disk optimization script,” Greg mumbled, reciting the words on the paper. “For the backup server. Said it was an emergency security purge for outdated client files. He said it was critical for our probationary period, for my job.”
He looked utterly distraught. “I just followed the instructions. He said it would clear old junk, free up space. I had no idea it was a wipe command. I swear, Maya, I had no idea.”
The truth hit him like a physical blow. His shoulders sagged. “He tricked me. I was just trying to do my job, trying to make it through my probation clean. I just wanted to keep my job.”
Greg, earnest and compliant, had been Julian’s perfect, unwitting accomplice. His innocence, like Lily’s, had been completely exploited, but for a far more sinister purpose.
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