His wool coat was black with water, and his hair clung to his forehead in wet clumps.

He was shivering, holding a small black Pelican case tight against his ribs.

“Philip,” Margaret whispered, taking a trembling step toward him. “Thank God. Tell her this is all a misunderstanding.”

Philip didn’t look at his mother.

He kept his eyes fixed entirely on me.

“I sent the files, Nora,” he said, his voice hoarse and raw. “But you need the physical hardware keys to decrypt the primary database.”

He walked past her, his wet leather shoes squeaking loudly on the limestone floor.

He set the heavy plastic case on the mahogany console table, splashing water across the polished wood.

“What have you done?” Margaret asked, her voice dropping to a harsh whisper.

“I saved myself,” Philip said, turning to her with a bitter sneer. “Because Grant sure as hell wasn’t going to do it for me.”

He popped the heavy plastic latches of the case.

Inside, nestled in custom-cut gray foam, were three silver solid-state hard drives and a black USB security token.