Gary sits at his workstation, fingers hovering over the keyboard, multiple screens reflecting lines of code in his glasses. He notices the anomaly before anyone else does, the pattern that doesn’t fit.

He doesn’t look immediately at the person in the room, knowing eye contact gives power. Finally, he turns, his sharp eyes assessing.

“Before you say anything,” he mutters, “I already ran a background check. Twice.”

His gaze remains steady, calculating. “You’re either very unlucky or you’re lying about why you’re here. And if there’s one thing I don’t tolerate, it’s people bringing danger to my door without a damn good reason.”

He leans back slightly, arms folded, waiting for an explanation, every micro-expression telling him more than words ever could.