“Alright,” I said. “But there are conditions.”

Before I could explain, my phone vibrated again.

It wasn’t a call this time.

It was a text message from an unknown number.

I opened the message.

It was an image of our warehouse in Richmond.

The metal gate was open, and a white van was parked near the loading dock.

Underneath the photo was a single sentence: *You should secure your assets.*

I stared at the image on the screen, my thumb hovering over the glass.

The white van in the photo had no license plate visible.

“What is it?” Derek asked, leaning forward.

I turned the phone so he could see the display.

His face went pale, his jaw tightening as he studied the grain of the image.

“That’s Richmond,” he whispered. “The East Bay facility.”

“Yes,” I said.

I tapped the screen to call Priya.

She answered on the first ring, her voice crisp and efficient. “Sarah, I’m just finishing the prep for the board meeting.”

“Priya, call Richmond security right now,” I said, keeping my voice flat and even. “Have them check the north loading dock. There is a white van parked by the gate.”