But there was a difference.
My coat had a small tear near the right cuff.
The coat in the photograph didn’t.
“That isn’t me.”
Eleanor stared at the image.
“Then who is it?”
Daniel enlarged the picture.
The man’s face was partly turned away.
The similarity in clothing, hairstyle, and build looked deliberate.
Claire whispered:
“Marcus said this was proof.”
“Proof of what?”
“I don’t know.”
Daniel arranged the other photographs across the table.
Gradually, a pattern became visible.
The pictures weren’t merely recording Eleanor’s movements.
They showed intersections, entrances, travel routes, and gaps in security coverage.
The collection resembled preparations for an operation.
Someone had been rehearsing.
But what were they planning?
Daniel instructed his security personnel to contact investigators.
Within an hour, authorities arrived.
Claire and I gave statements.
Eleanor refused to leave until the situation became clearer.
Then one investigator examining the suspicious photograph asked for my full name.
