Page 158 of Obey

I WONDER IF SHE KNOWS WHAT KIND OF SOIL SHE’S ROOTED IN.

Jace stands near the conference table, arms folded across his chest. He hasn’t made a joke in an hour. “So, whoever this is knows we found the mirrored access point,” he says. “And instead of backing off, they’re poking harder.”

“They’re escalating,” I say.

Nate finally looks away from the monitor. “Security is isolating every compromised pathway. We’ve revoked and reissued executive credentials, segmented the development environment, and the vendor access logs are being audited.”

“And Sloane?” Jace asks.

There’s the smallest pause as Nate reaches for the folder beside him. “She’s at the vendor walkthrough.”

Jace straightens. “Why?”

“Because it’s her job.”

“No, Sir.” Jace’s eyes narrow. “Why isn’t she here?”

Nate’s expression doesn’t change. “There’s nothing she needs to contribute to this meeting.”

Jace looks at me, and I look at Nate.

“Oh, good,” Jace mutters. “We’re doing the thing.”

“What thing?”

“The thing where you decide something is for our own good and then explain it later like everybody else is too stupid to notice. She should know, and she’s going to be pissed when she finds out that you kept her in the dark.”

Nate’s stare could strip paint, and he turns to me for backup, but I don’t give it to him.

“Jace is right,” I say, slow, each word as blunt as knuckles on bone. “She’ll know something’s wrong.”

“So what do you want me to tell her?” His tone goes colder. “That someone breached our network again? She already knows security is investigating.”

I glance at the black monitor. “Nathaniel.”

“Don’t.”

That gets Jace’s attention, mine too, because Nate rarely warns me away.

“You sent her across the city because you didn’t want her in the room when we saw that message,” I say, stepping closer to him.

“I sent my executive assistant to conduct a vendor walkthrough that was scheduled three weeks ago.”

“Both can be true.”

Nate looks at me, and I finally understand what he's trying to bury beneath all that control. He's afraid for Sloane, and no amount of security is going to convince him she's safe.

“I don’t want her carrying this,” he says finally.

“That isn’t your decision.”

“I’m not frightening her over a threat we haven’t substantiated.” His eyes harden. “You think I should put that message in front of her and tell her someone may be watching her because of us?”

“I think she deserves the chance to decide what she does with information that concerns her.”

People assume I follow Nathaniel's lead without question. Eleven years together should tell them otherwise.

“You know what you’re doing,” I say. “You’re trying to build a wall around her before anyone gets close enough to test it.”