I woke to a soft knock just after dawn.

Habit made me move slowly, checking the door in silence. It was Marc, our trusted courier. His early arrival was off-script, and the unease that curled through my chest was instant. My pulse throbbed hard in my throat as I pulled the door open.

He held a sealed envelope. No expression. No greeting.

I took it with steady hands, though nothing inside felt steady. When I opened the flap, I found only two printed lines:

We’ve intercepted your ...