Story code: ST-001255
Part 4: Cold Consequence
I pointed to the monitor. “The email was sent through a private mail server registered to Vance Design Studio. The registration record lists the primary owner as Amanda Vance.”
Sarah stared at the screen, her eyes wide. She slowly turned her head to look at her cousin. “Amanda. That is your business domain. You created an anonymous email address on your own hosting account.”
Amanda’s face went completely pale. Her hand dropped from her phone pocket. “It’s a mistake. My server must have been hacked. Anyone could have used my domain.”
“Our network log shows more than just the domain,” I said, my voice echoing in the quiet lobby. I pulled up the active visitor log on the adjacent screen. “To access the guest network in this building, visitors must accept our terms of service, which registers their device’s MAC address and current IP. The IP address that sent this email four minutes ago matches the exact IP address assigned to the mobile device that checked into our guest network at the front door ten minutes ago.”
I pointed to the matching strings of numbers highlighted in yellow on my console. “The device registered to ‘Amanda Vance’ on our guest Wi-Fi is the exact device that transmitted the reference email while sitting in our waiting area.”
Amanda opened and closed her mouth, but no sound came out. Her shoulders slumped, the frantic energy evaporating into a stiff, frozen silence.
“And the hospital?” Sarah asked, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Did Clara call you? Is Mom okay?”
Amanda did not look at Sarah. She looked at the polished concrete floor, her fingers twitching against her coat pockets.
“I attempted to call the hospital admissions desk to verify the medical emergency for the waiver,” I said to Marcus. “This visitor physically blocked the phone line and refused to allow the call to go through.”
“I see,” Marcus said. He turned to the two security guards standing near the turnstiles. “We have a case of fraudulent entry and intentional disruption of corporate business. Please escort this individual off the premises.”
The guards stepped forward, their heavy boots clicking on the floor. One of them motioned toward the exit. “Ma’am, you need to leave the building immediately.”
Amanda did not argue. She turned and walked toward the glass doors, her head down, escorted on either side by security.
Marcus turned to Sarah. “We will delete the fraudulent reference from your file. Your interview panel is ready. We can begin in five minutes if you need a moment to collect yourself.”
“I’m ready now,” Sarah said. She bent down, gathered her resumes from the floor, and straightened them against her portfolio.
I clicked the terminal mouse, logging a permanent trespass warning under Amanda Vance’s name in the building’s database. I attached the IP match log and the incident report to the file, closing the record with a final keystroke. The machine printed a small confirmation slip, which I filed away as the elevator doors closed behind Sarah and Marcus.