I work as a journalist, so ordinarily I would have said, "Don't get involved. Be impartial. This is a job, nothing personal. You've got the sabotage on tape anyway, so it will all come out in the final cut."
But, my blood heated when I read about her stealing the treatise and putting it in the compost bin (presumably to be destroyed.) I do a lot of work trying to find old historical documents, and it makes me sick when I think of all the history that has been destroyed and lost forever. E.g. Sir Richard Francis Burton's wife destroyed many of his papers and manuscripts after he died, and large quantities of Henry Spencer Ashbee's massive library of Victorian pornography were burnt by librarians. The thought of my own work, however modest, being lost and forgotten cuts at me. Not to mention the personal betrayal, however well intentioned.
This is particularly interesting with beings who lose their personal memories when they change, and are dependent on external means of record keeping for personal continuity.
A well-written story, well read.