Page 54 of Matteo

“This is what I was talking about.” He points at the screen. “The backup completed successfully, but the numbers don't match.”

I lean closer. “I saw the screenshots. Show me last week’s report.” My attention finally shifts away from Matteo and onto the monitor.

He pulls it up and I scan both reports side by side. A few seconds pass. Then a few more. Suddenly I see it. “That’s odd.”

“What?”

I point at the figures. “The discrepancy.”

His brow furrows. “What about it?”

“The numbers are different, but the gap is almost identical.”

“Meaning?”

I scroll between the reports. “The backup thinks it copied data that the live system can't account for.”

“Can software do that?”

“Sometimes.”

“But?”

I hesitate. Because this is the part I don't like. “Software glitches are usually messy.” I tap the screen. “This isn't messy.”

“What is it?”

I zoom in on several entries. “It’s consistent.”

His jaw tightens. “You think it's connected to the other incidents?”

I nod slowly. “I think the odds of all these anomalies being unrelated are getting smaller.”

“How small?”

I blow out a breath. “Small enough that I'm starting to worry.”

Matteo folds his arms. “The backdoor?”

I glance at him. “I still can't prove it exists.”

“But?”

“But this is the second time I've seen unrelated anomalies leading back to the same area of the system.”

His expression darkens. “You think it's related.”

“I think it's possible.”

“What are you saying?”

I point to the screen. “I'm saying that if there is a backdoor, it wasn't created by accident.”

He scratches his jaw, and I note the dusting of stubble across it. Matteo is usually clean shaven. Messy bed-head hair, but smooth skin and clean shaven. Just the way I like him. His gaze snaps to mine.

“I'm saying whoever built it understood this environment extremely well.”

His jaw tightens.