Thoren
Martin Hale’s file was boring.
Kael dropped the completed review onto the table in my office shortly after breakfast the next morning, then took the chair across from me while Salas remained standing near the window with his clipboard tucked beneath one arm.
“No disciplinary history,” Kael said. “No unexplained access. No unusual schedule changes. His position in administrative records gives him access to routine staffing documents, supply requests, payroll corrections, and archived correspondence, but nothing connected to Nevara’s pregnancy or the security details around her.”
I opened the file anyway.
Martin had worked at the castle for eleven years. Married. Two children. Same house for nine of those years. His financial records showed nothing more suspicious than apparently
