Elara Quinn POV
Elara signed the form and slid it across the desk.
"There," she said. "Everything you asked for."
The auditor nodded and added it to the growing stack of papers. "Thank you for your cooperation."
Elara forced a smile.
She told herself to breathe.
This was routine. That was what everyone kept saying. Audits happened all the time. Honest people had nothing to fear.
She had nothing to hide.
When the auditor left, Elara leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes. Her head ached. The past two days had felt longer than the whole month before them.
A knock sounded at the door.
"Come in," she said.
Marcus stepped inside, calm as ever.
"You handled that well," he said. "Very professional."
Elara nodded. "I just answered the questions."
"That's all anyone can do," Marcus replied. "The truth speaks for itself."
She wanted to believe him.
"They asked about everything," Elara said. "Emails. Logs. Transfers. Even personal access."
Marcus waved a hand. "Standard procedure."
Elara studied his face. "You're sure?"
He smiled. "Elara, you're clean. This will pass."
The word clean made her chest tighten.
"I keep thinking I missed something," she admitted. "Some detail."
Marcus leaned against the desk. "That's guilt talking."
"I'm not guilty," she said quickly.
"Exactly," he replied. "Which is why you're nervous. Good people always are."
His words soothed her, even as something inside her resisted.
"I just want this over," she said.
"And it will be," Marcus promised. "I'm coordinating everything. I won't let them drag this out."
She hesitated. "Thank you."
He smiled warmly. "That's what I'm here for."
After he left, Elara stared at the closed door.
Something still felt off.
But exhaustion drowned the feeling.
The next few days blurred together. Elara answered more questions. She shared passwords. She opened files. She handed over calendars and notes.
She did not hesitate.
Why would she?
She had spent her life doing the right thing. This was no different.
Volunteers still came. Families still lined up. Christmas lights still glowed.
But whispers followed her now.
She felt them in the way people paused before speaking. In the way smiles faded too fast.
One afternoon, Vanessa cornered her near the exit.
"You're trending," Vanessa said in a low voice.
Elara froze. "About what?"
"Nothing bad," Vanessa replied quickly. "Just concern. People asking questions."
"I don't want attention," Elara said.
Vanessa sighed. "You never do."
Elara went home that night with a heavy heart. She heated leftovers and ate standing up. Her apartment felt too quiet.
She checked her email before bed.
Nothing unusual.
She slept restlessly.
Across town, Marcus sat alone in his office.
The building was dark. The hum of machines filled the silence.
Marcus logged into the system with practiced ease.
Elara Quinn.
Access granted.
He opened her email account and scanned through messages. Thank you notes. Schedules. Simple kindness.
He smiled.
"So predictable," he murmured.
He opened a folder he had prepared earlier.
Draft emails. Fake conversations. Carefully written. Perfectly timed.
He uploaded the first one.
An email that looked like it came from Elara. Short. Polite. Asking about moving funds quietly.
He paused, then added another.
This one mentioned pressure. Stress. Need.
He placed them carefully among real messages, adjusting dates and times.
The system accepted everything without protest.
Marcus leaned back and checked his work.
Flawless.
"No one questions the angel," he said softly. "Until they do."
He logged out and shut down the computer.
At that same moment, Elara's phone buzzed on her nightstand.
She stirred but did not wake.
A notification appeared.
New message synced.
The screen went dark again.
Morning would come soon.
And with it, proof that Elara Quinn had never written.
Proof that would change everything.