That night, Vania’s apartment felt unbearably still. Arga was away at an urgent meeting with his legal team, leaving her alone in the dimly lit living room. A desk lamp cast a muted glow across the space. A notebook lay open on her lap, though her thoughts were far away.

The doorbell rang softly.

Vania flinched. Rarely did anyone visit at such an hour. She hesitated for a few seconds before rising and opening the door.

A man stood there. His hair was slightly disheveled, his face weary, his eyes scanning the hallway with caution.

“Mrs. Vania?” His voice was low.

Vania held her breath. “Yes. Who are you?”

He...