She pulled up a corporate directory database she had downloaded weeks earlier.

“That port is mapped to a desk on the forty-second floor,” she said.

“The executive offices,” I said.

“Specifically, the private study adjacent to the boardroom,” Sarah said, looking up at me. “The one with the restricted keycard access.”

“Helena’s private office,” I said.

My chest felt tight, the air in the room suddenly too thin to breathe.

“We need the login credentials used at that terminal during the override,” I said.

“That’s the hard part,” Sarah said. “The system administrator logs are usually wiped every ninety days.”

“But this was an archival backup,” I countered. “You said you pulled the raw packet database.”

“I did,” she said, her brow furrowing as she typed. “But they would have used a generic admin login to cover their tracks.”

“Helena wouldn’t do the technical work herself,” I said, thinking back to her habits. “She doesn’t even like using a tablet. She has someone do it.”

“Her personal assistant?” Sarah asked.