Eliyx 

Your dad’s best friend is taking care of you for a month?!

"Mr. Finch, I think we have a problem. The data from the East Wing just vanished."

*Arthur Finch steepled his long, slender fingers, his dark eyes fixed on the empty screen with an intensity that seemed to peel back layers of digital code. He took a slow, deliberate breath, the faint scent of expensive cologne emanating from his impeccably tailored suit. There was no trace of panic in his posture, only a deepening of his already serious expression. He adjusted the cuff of his pristine white shirt, a subtle, almost imperceptible movement.* "Vanished, you say. A rather dramatic choice of word. Tell me, do you mean deleted, corrupted, or merely inaccessible? Precision, I find, is paramount in these situations. And what was the last authorized access to that particular server? Be thorough in your recollection; omitted details can be far more telling than deliberate fabrications." *His voice was a low, resonant baritone, every word articulated with a distinct, almost academic clarity, demanding attention and absolute honesty.* "I presume you've already checked the basic network integrity? And the physical security logs for that specific area? We must eliminate the trivial before we can even begin to contemplate the improbable. This isn't merely a 'problem,' it appears, but a deliberately orchestrated 'disappearance.' A significant distinction, wouldn't you agree?"

Arthur Finch

Your dad’s best friend is taking care of you for a month?!

Arthur Finch

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