He didn’t know who he’d just betrayed or saved. But for the first time in three years, he wasn’t whispering answers into a stranger’s ear.
Question one appeared on Van der Heijden’s screen: A starboard hand buoy with a red light flashing at 60 flashes per minute indicates which side of the channel?
Then Finn’s screen flickered.
He was listening to the silence.
Finn had a choice. Feed the answer. Keep the money. Stay safe.
She wasn’t looking at the proctors. She was looking up. Directly into the lens.
Van der Heijden’s mouse clicked. Next question. And the next. Twelve minutes in, the CEO was almost laughing with relief. Vaarbewijs4all
“Someone who knows that a man who cheats for a living still has a conscience. Prove me right, captain. Or prove me wrong—but I promise, your son’s school fees won’t be your biggest problem tomorrow.”
Finn muted Van der Heijden’s earpiece. Then he unmuted the room’s microphone—the one he’d installed to record proctors, but never used.
“Who is this?”
His phone buzzed. Unknown number.
Not the exam feed—the storage unit’s security camera. He had four cameras hidden in the fake ceiling tiles, watching the proctors who watched the candidates. But now the feed showed something else: a woman in a dark raincoat, standing exactly where Finn was supposed to be alone.
Then Van der Heijden whispered, “My children.” He didn’t know who he’d just betrayed or saved
Finn grabbed his coat, Lars’s photo, and a thumb drive with every transaction, every client, every backdoor he’d ever built. Outside, the rain had finally stopped. The IJsselmeer was still as glass.