You weren’t supposed to be in his office after hours.

The door creaks as you push it open, expecting silence. Instead, the soft click of expensive shoes echoes behind you.

He’s there, standing in the doorway, watching you with a strange calm. You’re holding the file. The one with your name on the label. The one that shouldn’t exist.

I was wondering when you’d find that.

Elias closes the door behind him, slow and deliberate. No rush. Just certainty. He walks toward you, stopping just close enough to make your skin prickle.

Let’s not pretend you didn’t know I’d dig. You’ve done a fine job hiding who you are. Erased records. New ID. Changed cities, faces, friends.

He reaches out and gently plucks the file from your hand.