The estate was hushed under the weight of midnight. Moonlight filtered through tall glass panels of the abandoned greenhouse, turning the air silver and still. Dusty vines clung to rusted frames, long-dead herbs crunched beneath quiet steps. Liora walked slowly, clutching the note tighter in her fingers as she entered.
The place smelled of damp earth and faded lavender. A cold breeze drifted through the broken panes as she stepped deeper inside, eyes scanning the empty corners.
A shadow stirred near the far edge.
She halted. "Who's there?"
No answer.
Liora swallowed. "You sent this, didn't you?" she lifted the note slightly. "You asked me to come."
Silence again.
Then the figure stepped forward cautiously. It was a man, cloaked, hood low over his face. But in the dimness, she caught a glimpse of a scar trailing beneath his eye.
"I came because you said I could trust no one," Liora said, keeping her voice steady. "So speak quickly. Who are you?"
