He didn’t speak at once.

Just studied me—calm, measured, like I was a puzzle he’d been turning over in his mind.

“Would you like something to eat? Tea?” he asked at last.

I shook my head. “No, thank you. I’m only curious why you wanted to see me.”

He gave a slow nod, as though that question was the one he had been waiting for.

“I need your help with something,” he said quietly. “Something important.”

My pulse didn’t leap. It stilled. Because even before he spoke ...