I froze, my hand locking on the mouse.

My breath got stuck in my throat.

The heavy oak door swung open slowly, casting a long wedge of yellow light across the carpet.

Arthur Sterling stood in the frame.

His dark cashmere overcoat was damp from the rain outside, smelling of cold stone and tobacco.

His sharp gray eyes scanned the darkened room, landing instantly on my face.

“Kate,” he said.

His voice was a low rumble in the quiet office.

“Why are you still at your desk?”

“I found something,” I said, my voice barely a whisper.

I pointed to the monitor, where the red text still flashed.

*Access monitored by external IP.*

Arthur walked over, his handmade leather shoes silent on the polished floorboards.

He leaned over my shoulder to look at the screen.

His proximity made my skin prickle, the warmth of his body contrasting with the cold draft in the room.

“What is this?” he asked, his eyes narrowing.

“It is a live feed,” I said.

“Someone is mirroring my screen from a remote terminal.”

Arthur’s jaw tightened, a hard line forming along his cheek.