I showed her the photo. I explained the man in my apartment. Sophia didn’t blink. She didn’t call me crazy. She simply pulled out her tablet and started typing.

“First, we check the building security,” she said, her fingers flying across the keys. She had contacts everywhere, access to systems that legally shouldn’t be accessible. “Here we go. Lobby feed from last Tuesday.”

We watched the footage. Aiden—or the man pretending to be him—entered the building at 6:47 p.m.

“Stop,” Sophia commanded. She zoomed in on the shadow cast by the lobby chandelier. “Look at the refraction.”

“What?”

“It’s a deep fake overlay on the security feed,” she said, her voice grim. “But it’s glitching. See the shadow? It doesn’t match the angle of the light source. Someone has hacked your building’s system to insert pre-recorded footage of Aiden coming and going to mask the movements of the impostor.”