“Three hours ago, someone bypassed our database security and altered the structural load specs on our active building permit,” I said.

Margaret frowned, looking at the screen I held out to her.

“An internal error?” she asked.

“No,” I said, scrolling down to the security log. “An unauthorized remote access from an administrative key registered to Bennett Urban Systems.”

Margaret stared at the screen, her eyes scanning the digital signature and the Boston IP address.

My phone vibrated in my hand again.

I looked down and saw a new message on the screen.

The text was from an unknown number, but the tone was instantly recognizable.

“Don’t make a mistake you can’t undo, Claire,” the message read. “Let’s resolve this privately.”

I showed the screen to Julian, who tightened his grip on his coat.

Margaret Hale leaned closer, her silver hair catching the light from the fireplace.

“Is that Adrian?” she asked, her voice low and steady.

“It is,” I said. “He knows we’ve detected the breach.”

The commissioner of public works, a tall man named Arthur Vance, stepped toward us.