Trevor knew Thomas had been through a lot, but this request felt like a man asking to walk back into a lion's den because he'd dropped his lunch.
"We found one similar case in a single day," Thomas argued, stepping closer. "Who's to say there aren't five more buried in the years Trevor didn't ask me to check? If the pattern is sector-wide, the evidence is sitting in that basement, rotting under black ink."
Thomas had spent the night calculating. He didn't just want the "Danders" file anymore. He wanted to find every instance of that black wallet. He wanted to find the scrap of English text. He wanted to know if he was the only "outsider" currently trapped in this world's gears.
