I finished reading and slowly folded the paper back along its original creases.

The silence in the room was absolute, save for the rhythmic buzzing of the security gate on the wall.

Ethan sat perfectly still beside his father, his young eyes wide as he looked between me and the letter.

Alexander slowly stood up, his massive frame towering over the table.

The grief in his face had hardened into something cold, sharp, and incredibly dangerous.

He looked at Celeste, then at Vivian, his eyes scanning their faces with a terrifying intensity.

On the wall, the security monitor flashed again, the red light bathing his face in a crimson glow.

The intercom on the table beeped twice, signaling an incoming call from the guardhouse.

Alexander reached down and pressed the receiver.

“What is it?” he barked into the speaker.

The static whistled for a second before the head of security’s voice came through, sounding tense.

“Sir, we have an unauthorized vehicle at the north gate,” the guard said.

“They’re refusing to identify themselves, and the perimeter sensors just went dark on the western wall.”