As the thirty-second loop played, Maya noticed something the lawyers hadn't: a reflection in the leopard spots. A blurred face in the background, holding a camera that definitely didn't belong to the production crew. "Someone's being framed," Maya whispered.
She realized the file wasn't just a leak; it was a digital breadcrumb. The leopard print wasn't just a fashion choice—it was a camouflage for the data hidden in the pixels. Maya looked at the title again. The capitalization was weird. The "PAWG" wasn't a descriptor; it was an acronym. Project: Alpha, Whiskey, Golf.
The digital file sat on the desktop like a neon sign, its title——screaming for attention.