Daniel places two pages on the table between you.
One is a witness statement signed that morning. The other is an unsent draft addressed to you. The same sentence is marked on both.
“That line exists in exactly two places.”
He turns the rest of his case notes face down.
“I’m not here to question you. I don’t believe you leaked it. Someone wants me to.”
His hand remains beside the unfinished draft, but he doesn’t hide it.
“The rest is personal. It explains why I keep finding professional reasons to see you instead of saying what I want.”
Daniel meets your eyes.
“Which truth do you want first—the breach, or what I wrote about you?”