Hayes walked toward the window.
"Protocol Nine was created twelve years ago. It was designed to protect certain confidential investigations when an internal security breach occurred."
"Protect them from whom?"
"From unauthorized access."
Claire shook her head.
"You're not answering me."
Hayes turned.
"Listen carefully. Your sister's disappearance was not a simple missing-person case. People died because of what she knew. If you continue searching, you may become another name in an investigation file."
Claire looked at him without blinking.
"Then perhaps you should have thought about that before allowing my sister to disappear."
She opened the door.
But before leaving, she turned around.
"One more thing. If my father really discovered corruption inside this department, why did he trust you?"
Hayes looked away.
And Claire finally understood that the man standing before her had not told her everything.
Not even close.
Daniel Reed had never liked unanswered questions.
He preferred investigations with clear evidence, reliable witnesses, and a suspect whose story eventually fell apart under pressure.
Unfortunately, the Morgan case offered none of those things.
By the time he returned to his desk, the entire precinct seemed to be working against him.
Marcus Cole was missing.
The security footage had been erased.
Rebecca Stone was dead.
And Claire Morgan had apparently triggered a secret security protocol simply by walking through the front door.
He opened the department's archived investigation database.
After several searches, he found an old case file bearing Thomas Morgan's name.
Most of the documents were incomplete.
Some pages had been scanned twice, while others appeared to have been removed entirely.
Daniel opened the evidence transfer records.
A name appeared repeatedly.
Rebecca Stone.
According to the documents, Rebecca had transferred several items from Thomas Morgan's investigation to a restricted storage facility.
However, the final transfer record contained no receiving officer's signature.
That was unusual.
Every item entering police custody required a chain of documentation.
Daniel printed the record and walked toward the technical department.
"Can you check this?"
A technician examined the document.
"What am I looking for?"
"Anything unusual. Missing signatures, altered dates, deleted information."
The technician zoomed in.
"Interesting."
"What?"
"The original document was modified."
"How?"
"Look at the date."
Daniel leaned closer.
The file showed that the evidence had been transferred on October 14, twelve years earlier.
But the system's metadata indicated that the document had been edited three days after Thomas Morgan's death.
Someone had changed the official record.
"Can you identify who made the modification?"
The technician began typing.
A few seconds later, a name appeared.
MARCUS COLE.
Daniel stared at the screen.
Cole had not simply accessed the system tonight.
He had been involved in the original investigation.
Meanwhile, Claire had returned to the captain's office.
She wanted to examine the photograph of her father again.
But the office door was unlocked and Hayes was nowhere to be found.
She stepped inside.
The photograph was still on the desk.
Beside it lay a small envelope.
Claire opened it.
Inside was a handwritten note.
If something happens to me, look beneath the old courthouse.
She recognized the handwriting immediately.
It belonged to her father.
Her hands began to shake.
She took a photograph of the note and slipped the original into her handbag.
Then she heard footsteps.
"Claire?"
Daniel stood in the doorway.
She quickly turned.
"What are you doing here?" he asked.
"Looking for answers."
Daniel noticed the envelope.
"What's that?"
She showed him the note.
He read it carefully.
"Do you know what he meant?"
"Not yet."
Daniel considered the words.
"The old courthouse was closed years ago."
"My father used to work there sometimes. He was involved in legal investigations before joining the police."
"Then perhaps we should search it."
Claire nodded.
But before they could leave, Daniel's phone rang.
It was the captain.
"Reed, I need you in my office."
"We're investigating a lead."
"Now."
Daniel glanced at Claire.
"We'll be there in five minutes."
Hayes disconnected.
When they entered the office, the captain was standing beside his desk.
He looked at the note in Claire's hand.
"Where did you get that?"
"Your desk."
Hayes closed his eyes.
"I was hoping you wouldn't find it."
"Why?"
"Because it could put you in danger."
Claire stepped forward.
"My father wrote this. I have a right to know what it means."
Hayes picked up the photograph of Thomas.
For a moment, he looked genuinely heartbroken.
"Thomas was a good man," he said quietly. "He believed the police department could be changed from within."
"Could it?"
Hayes looked at her.
"Not while the people responsible are still in power."
Daniel interrupted.
"Captain, we found evidence that Marcus Cole altered the original transfer records."
Hayes turned sharply.
"Are you certain?"
"The metadata confirms it."
Hayes walked toward the window.
Then he spoke in a voice barely above a whisper.
"Marcus was supposed to protect those records."
Claire stared at him.
"Protect them from whom?"
Hayes slowly turned around.
"From me."
Before anyone could ask another question, Daniel's radio crackled.
A patrol officer reported that an abandoned vehicle registered to Marcus Cole had been discovered near the old courthouse.
The driver's door was open.
There was blood on the seat.
And something else.
A photograph of Claire.
On its back, someone had written:
SHE WAS NEVER SUPPOSED TO FIND THE FILE.
The old courthouse looked exactly as Claire remembered it.
Its enormous stone entrance had been covered with dust, and the windows were broken in several places. Weeds had grown through cracks in the pavement, while faded government notices still hung beside the entrance.
Claire stood outside for a moment.
She remembered visiting the building with her father when she was younger.
Thomas Morgan had sometimes brought her there after school. He would tell her that justice was not something people received automatically.
It was something they had to fight for.
Now, twelve years later, she was standing in the same place, searching for the truth about his death.
Daniel approached.
"Are you ready?"
Claire nodded.
They entered with two additional officers.
The building smelled of damp wood and old paper.
Their footsteps echoed through the empty corridors.
"Where did your father usually work?" Daniel asked.
"On the second floor. There was a small office near the records department."
They searched the room.