HEATH

The Sterlings' home was exactly how I remembered it from years ago

I had only been into George's study twice; today makes it the third time, however. It still smelled the same, of worn-out leather, old books, and expensive bourbon.

Heavy rain lashed against the tall windows overlooking the city, but none of us paid it any attention. Every eye in the room was fixed on the papers spread across the mahogany desk.

“So," George said, folding his hands together and leaning back into his seat, “It's real”

Benjamin gave a single nod, his face grim. “Every word you told us was true. The Elite Group exists exactly as...