The tray clattered softly as Claude set it down in front of me. His movements were as measured and cautious as always, his face a blank mask. But as he turned to leave, something unexpected caught my eye. A small slip of paper, folded and barely visible, was tucked beneath the edge of the plate. My heart skipped a beat.

I waited until I was sure he had left the room, the door clicking shut behind him, before I reached for the note. My hands trembled slightly as I unfolded it. The handwriting was rough, hurried.

“Midnight. Power cut. Trust no one.”

I exhaled sharply, the weight of the message...