The storm returned, not as thunder in the skies, but as silence between hearts. Silence that screamed louder than truth.

Adrian had barely spoken since the last board meeting. Not to me, not to Consuelo, not even to the children. He wandered the halls like a man reliving a war—one that hadn’t ended, only paused. And the moment he received that message from the unnamed number, something cracked in him.

We know what you did in Morocco.

He didn’t explain.

He didn’t have to.

I saw it ...