‘The head of the company decided to test the new cleaning lady – left his wallet on the table…

Michael’s fingers trembled as he snatched the note from his desk. The scrawl was neat, deliberate: “I know you’re watching. I’m not your thief. Check Alan’s expense reports. – V” His pulse quickened. Valerie had seen through his trap, but her words pointed elsewhere—toward Alan, his trusted assistant. The accusation stung, yet it fit. Alan’s recent flashiness—new watches, slick shoes—clashed with his modest salary. Had Michael been blind?

He rewound the footage, scrutinizing Valerie’s movements. No hesitation, no guilt. Just calm precision. She’d handled the wallet like a prop, her note a calculated countermove. This wasn’t a cleaner’s instinct—this was something sharper.

The office felt colder now. Michael dug into Alan’s reports, cross-referencing dates with the petty thefts. Discrepancies glared: inflated receipts, missing reimbursements. Alan had been skimming, subtly but steadily. Valerie had known.

But how? Michael’s mind churned. Was she just observant, or was there more? Her subtle glances at company charts, her quiet presence—had she been piecing together the office’s secrets all along?

Tomorrow, he’d confront her. Not as a suspect, but as an enigma. Valerie wasn’t just cleaning desks—she was reading the room. And Michael needed to know why.