My phone shook on the last page.

I had to take the photograph twice.

I put everything back and left without touching passports, money, or other files.

The photographs were of a contract I had signed, but Marcus would still need to consider how to use them and obtain the formal version.

Upstairs, I sat on the edge of the bed until my pulse slowed.

I had not defeated anything.

I had acquired thirty-two pages I should have been permitted to read eighteen months earlier.