KAREN’S POV — Present Tense

The morning arrives without warmth.

My apartment feels colder than yesterday, as if the betrayal soaked into the drywall and settled like frost. The blinds filter the early light into thin white stripes that fall across the floor, dissecting the room into quiet, accusing pieces.

I sit at the small dining table, staring at the Phase 2 file Tariq handed me last night. My coffee has gone cold. My thoughts have not.

The folder is innocuous enough—lightweight, ...