The following morning, detective Morgan entered the cramped office looking grim.
The blue light from the monitors reflected in Pamela's glasses as she took the small, phone from his hand.
"Where did you get this?" she asked as she immediately plugged the device into a universal forensic extractor.
"Doesn't matter," Morgan replied, her arms crossed tightly. "Just tell me what's on it."
John leaned in, watching as a progress bar flickered to life on the center screen. The specialized software began its deep dive, bypassing encryption layers and pulling raw data from the phone's internal memory.
Data Extraction in Progress...
Morgan leaned over her shoulder, her eyes scanning the scrolling code. "Anything?" she asked.
"It's a burner, but they were sloppy," Pamela muttered, her fingers dancing across the keyboard to stabilize the feed. "They thought deleting the data would hide them, but the metadata is still sitting in the cache."
