I leaned in. “That’s the first honest thing you’ve said.”

Before he could answer, the elevator chimed. Everyone turned. For one terrible second I thought Anna had come down — but it was Marie, my night manager, walking fast with a tablet clutched in both hands.

“Mr. Martin. You need to see this.”

I took the tablet. Security footage from the employees’ entrance, three hours earlier: Anna slipping inside in uniform, a child in each arm, a backpack over her shoulder, exhausted but careful.

Then another angle — Elias entering the loading area twenty minutes later with a key card.

My access system should have stopped him. It did not. He moved through the service corridor like a man who’d been shown the route, checking doors, watching cameras, and then met someone in the shadows near the freight elevator.