“Exactly,” Vance said. “The editor left the timestamp running but deleted the physical frames of the impact.”

I sat down in the chair opposite him, watching the progress bar on his screen.

It was at twelve percent.

The silence in the room was heavy, broken only by the hum of the laptop fan.

“You’re the Chief of Medicine at County General, aren’t you?” Vance asked suddenly.

“Yes,” I said. “For now.”

“My sister was treated there last year,” he said, not looking up from his screen. “Trauma department. Car accident.”

“Who was her doctor?” I asked.

“Dr. Singh,” he said. “She saved my sister’s leg. That’s why I’m here tonight.”

I looked at him, feeling a sudden wave of gratitude. “Mara is the best we have.”

“She said you were a good boss,” Vance said. “She said the hospital needs you.”

“I just want the truth to be visible,” I said.

The progress bar hit forty percent.

“The data blocks are coming together,” Vance said. “I can see the file size. It’s much larger than the clip your brother distributed.”

“Can you extract the audio too?” I asked.