The tires splashed through deep puddles, the headlights of oncoming cars smearing across my wet windshield.

Before I could reach the highway, my phone buzzed again, the screen lighting up with a call from Ethan.

I swiped the answer button on my steering wheel.

“Grace, you need to look at the news right now,” his voice was tight, barely holding back panic.

“I’m driving, Ethan. What is it?”

“The firm representing Cassandra’s family just issued a press release,” he said, his breath hitching. “They’ve released security logs from the base.”

I pulled over onto the shoulder of the road, the gravel crunching under my tires.

“What security logs?” I asked.

“They are claiming Aaron hacked into the federal personnel database three days ago,” Ethan said. “They have screenshots of his IP address and his old security credentials being used to download classified files.”

“That’s impossible,” I said. “Aaron doesn’t even have a computer in that booth. He’s been off the grid.”

“They have a signed affidavit from a cybersecurity expert at the defense firm,” Ethan said. “They are calling him a disgruntled former officer trying to sell stolen state secrets.”