The seed of doubt had been planted, and it was growing fast in his mind.

I stood silent, watching him make his choice.

Then, my phone vibrated in my hand again.

The screen lit up with another message from the same unsaved number.

I looked down.

The text read: *The vault in Richmond is being opened right now. They didn’t wait for the key.*

I looked up at the doors of the ballroom.

At that exact moment, the heavy double doors at the back of the hall swung open.

Two men in civilian dark suits walked in, wet from the rain, scanning the crowd.

The two men in wet suits walked past the ice sculptures near the entrance.

Water dripped from their coat hems onto the polished parquet floor.

One of them adjusted his tie and scanned the room until his eyes locked on mine.

Beside me, General Drummond shifted his weight, his medals clinking softly.

“They’re early,” Drummond murmured under his breath.

On stage, the master of ceremonies cleared his throat into the microphone, the feedback ringing high and sharp.