POV: Lucian Voss

It was early morning, the kind of morning where the sun had barely risen, and everything still felt a little too quiet—too still. The city outside my office window hadn’t quite woken up, and even the usual buzz of my building felt hushed, like the calm before a storm. I had just returned from a meeting when I found Henry standing in the middle of my office, holding something in his hand. He looked unusually stiff, his eyes focused and his jaw set tight.

He didn’t say anything at first. He didn’t need to.

That’s when I noticed the envelope in his hand. Plain white. No writing...