Author's pov

Kabir didn't rush-but he didn't wait either. The screen flickered once before stabilizing, lines of data unfolding with cold precision-timestamps, access logs, movement trails-everything aligning too cleanly to be coincidence. His gaze moved over it once, steady, absorbing, and then he opened the final file. A still frame appeared. Not blurred. Not partial. Clear enough. Intentional. For a second, Kabir didn't react. Not visibly. His fingers stilled against the desk, his posture unchanged-but something in the room shifted. His eyes narrowed just slightly, not in shock, not even in anger-just recognition settling in, quiet and sharp.