The air in Mansa’s study, once a space of quiet order, now seemed charged with a silent, seismic shock. Chloe’s words hung between them, a simple statement that had the power to dismantle a decade of silent devotion.

“How could that be?” Mansa’s voice was low, disbelieving. He took a step closer, his eyes fixed on the yellowed newsprint in Chloe’s hands. “It was Linsy. I know it was.” The certainty in his voice was a fortress built on memory.

Chloe, looking increasingly ...