Max POV
The report looked innocuous at first glance, which was exactly the problem. Innocuous was how everything Veil-related had looked, right up until it wasn't.
"Walk me through it again," Kelly said, standing behind my desk, arms crossed, the easy warmth of the rooftop dinner three days gone, replaced by the particular focus she brought to anything that threatened the fragile stability she'd spent months rebuilding.
"Seventeen accounts, all flagged dormant after the Blind Zone collapse," I said, pulling up the data on the main screen. "Standard procedure post-crisis—we monitor previously active Veil-linked financials for six months to confirm they're actually dead and not just quiet."
"And these aren't quiet."
"Three of them processed transactions in the last forty-eight hours. Small amounts, deliberately small, structured to avoid automatic flagging thresholds." I highlighted the pattern. "This isn't residual cleanup. This is someone being careful."
