It was Damon’s writing.

I picked up the drive, its cold metal casing chilling my palm.

I sat down in the leather desk chair and pressed the power button on the desktop computer that sat in the corner of the desk.

The screen flickered, casting a blue glow across the dark room.

I plugged the drive into the USB port and waited.

A dialogue box popped up on the screen, demanding a twenty-eight-character encryption key.

My heart began to beat a little faster against my ribs.

I looked down at the sheet of paper, scanning the rows of numbers and letters until I found one labeled with the date of my departure four years ago.

With trembling fingers, I typed the sequence into the prompt and hit enter.

The drive clicked and whirred to life.

A single folder appeared on the screen, labeled with my name and a red lock icon.

I clicked it open, revealing a series of scanned police reports, financial transaction logs, and a document titled *Active Threat Assessment*.

Before I could open the first file, the brass doorknob behind me began to turn.