{MICHAEL}
"I don't think she did it, Michael," Lorenzo says, voice dripping with disapproval. But he doesn't know a damn thing.
"Shut up," I growl as my fingers fly over my keyboard, working furiously to unscramble the security feeds that got messed with this afternoon. I need to find out what the hell went wrong.
"She couldn't have dismantled the cameras that cleanly," Lorenzo presses. "And I doubt you ever told her the password to your laptop, so how could she have accessed it and stolen that information? Something else is at play here."
"I said, shut the fuck up!" I explode to my feet, sweeping everything off my desk in a burst of white-hot rage. My computer, hard drives, stacks of files—all of it crash to the floor in a cacophony of destruction that does nothing to quiet the storm inside me. "Get out of here, Lorenzo."
