“I’ve been monitoring the server traffic from my car,” Ethan said.

His voice was tense.

“The silent alarm wasn’t the only thing that went off tonight,” Ethan added.

Martin was still groveling in the wet alley, his hands clutching the ruined paper.

The red and blue lights of the police cruisers began to flash against the brick walls of the adjacent buildings.

Ethan held up the tablet so my father and I could see.

Lines of green code and IP addresses scrolled rapidly down the screen.

“The physical break-in was a distraction,” Ethan said.

He tapped the screen, zooming in on a blinking red node.

“While Martin and his friend were stealing the paper schematics, someone initiated a remote download,” Ethan explained.

“Where is the source?” my father asked.

“It’s routed through an encrypted VPN, but the digital footprint is clear,” Ethan said.

He swiped his thumb across the glass, opening a map of Columbus.

“They used a cloned admin credential,” Ethan said. “Claire’s old login.”

My stomach tightened at the mention of my mother’s name.

“She’s downloading the entire proprietary file library for the riverfront project,” I said.