The Seventh Floor Alarm

**The Seventh Floor Alarm** Claire Hendricks juggled her coffee mug, balancing it precariously in one hand while clinging to her smartphone with the other. Mondays, right? They were never kind to her caffeine habit. With a quick glance at her watch, she quickened her pace through the marble-floored lobby of Reed Holdings & Co. "Claire!" Mark, her overenthusiastic co-worker, almost startled her into jug-spilling a fresh brew on her casual business attire. "Oh hey, Mark. What's up?" "There's been some weird talk going around. Something about the new software upgrade." Claire half-listened, her mind already onto the eleventh item on her checklist, "You mean the one for the auditing department?" As she stepped into the waiting elevator, Mark waved at her, whispering something about hacking buzz. She didn't catch the rest before the steel doors closed, leaving her in the compact comfort that smelled faintly of lavender and sweaty anxiety. As the floors dinged progressively upwards, a voice crackled through the elevator speakers, "Attention. You, Claire Hendricks, stand accused of company data manipulation. Please exit on the seventh floor immediately." Her heart felt like it had taken a dive to where her stomach should be. "What? What do you mean 'accused'?" Her phone barked out notifications—pings from the office social app blaring rumors like fireworks. Half the building already seemed to know she was the day's entertainment. Remember this morning when you said, 'nothing could make Monday worse'? Her mind quipped sarcastically. On the seventh floor, the elevator doors parted, revealing an empty corridor except for an unfamiliar suited gentleman standing directly ahead. "Claire Hendricks? I'm Joel Knox, head of corporate security," he drawled, pointing to the lone office with the door ajar, beckoning her to follow. "What's this all about, Joel?" she said, pushing back with the bravado that only came to her under duress. "Ever heard of Project Lynx?" Claire shook her head, peering into the room at the myriad of screens displaying data she didn’t recognize. All appeared to be in real-time. Financial reports. Graphs. Networks. "How would I even manage that? I'm not the tech wizard you guys seem to think." "Our firewall protocols say different." Veins running cold, Claire went on defense mode, "Look, whatever's happening here, it isn't me." Then, an unfamiliar trace of tech jargon slipped into her subconscious memory. "System fault," she mumbled, connecting frayed strands of Mark’s early morning warnings. Monitoring her expression closely, Joel maintained his stoic posture. "Will you humor me by checking out what's on your personal phone?" he asked. "Fine," she conceded, bringing it out and unlocking it. Her inbox flashed furiously with links she hadn’t sent to herself. Joel tightened his lip, clearly not convinced, "And how do you explain these?" Sick of this tug-of-war, Claire’s resolve solidified, "Set me up. This is a frame job." Thinking quickly, she asked for a temporary second monitor. Maybe—a digital trail she needed, something to dig deeper— A quick-thinking blitz carried her fingers atop the borrowed keyboard. A scrolling line whizzed with keywords and results, bouncing. Behind the displayed data, Claire deciphered connecting dots they hadn’t fathomed. "It's all being funneled from...an internal backdoor. Here," she pointed assertively, resulting in a collective gasp from Joel. Time accelerated as pieces slotted. The questions, accusations, and even her own doubts. With sweat on his brow, Joel nodded with a grudging respect, "Let’s see this through, then, shall we?" The room transitioned into heightened search and cyber forensics, with Claire leading this time. On the building’s rooftop, penthouse almost forgotten, truth struck home like lightning. Mark. Smart Mark all along, blue-toothed, and wirelessly moonlighting for acquisitions downfall. Together, catching the perpetrator and exonerating her name was a concealed victory of standing against the odds. For the fleeting moment, the world returned some semblance of peace, the thrill seeking walnut in her craving head quiesced. And with the unceremonious arrest, she cherished she didn’t walk alone, finding new allies she never anticipated. Joel offered a genuine handshake, "Then it’s safe to say see you in tech orientation, soon?" Claire chuckled, spirits now pleasantly buoyant, "Remember, never trust a smartphone, see?"