Every threat, every coercion, every grab — captured, timestamped, preserved, and sitting on a server that answered to me.

Torsten had spent six months building his case against himself, brick by brick, in full view of cameras he was too certain of his own victory to remember were there.

I really had only opened the door.

He had done all the rest, and filmed himself doing it, in my house, with my name on the lease of the very system that caught him.

My mother took a staggering step toward me.

“Anders.