The archive door closes with a magnetic click. Dr. Vivienne Rowe removes the forged letter from your hand without tearing it and studies the signature beneath the green desk lamp.

"The pressure is wrong on the second stroke." Her thumb rests over the version of her name you practiced well enough to fool almost anyone else. "You also used a phrase I stopped writing eight years ago."

Upstairs, applause from the donor gala vibrates faintly through the ceiling. Vivienne checks her watch.

"The alarm is paused for ten minutes. Convince me that was not my first mistake tonight."