Over the next few days, I navigated the delicate balance of my everyday responsibilities and the clandestine investigation I was now part of. I kept the folder hidden at home, only pulling it out late at night when the world was asleep and my mind could focus without interruption. Sam’s contact, a lawyer named Alex, agreed to meet with me under the condition of anonymity. We arranged to meet at his office after hours, a place where prying eyes wouldn’t follow.
As I stepped into the dimly lit office, Alex greeted me with a firm handshake, his demeanor professional yet approachable. “Let’s see what you’ve got,” he said, motioning for me to sit. I laid out the documents, explaining what I knew and what I hoped to uncover.
Alex studied the pages intently, making notes and asking pointed questions. “This is significant,” he finally said, leaning back in his chair. “But you need to be prepared for what you might find. It’s not just about the files; it’s about who stands to lose if this comes to light.” His words hung in the air, a reminder of the stakes involved.
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