The morning sun spilled gently through the blinds, casting golden slats of light across Lena’s bed. For the first time in what felt like forever, she felt well-rested. Refreshed. And also—terrified. Her stomach fluttered as the realization hit her all over again: This was it. Her first official day as an FBI agent.

A soft meow and the tickle of fur against her arm snapped Lena out of her spiral.

“Skye…” Lena chuckled, rolling over to see the small white cat rubbing insistently against her. “You’re hungry, right?” she asked, stretching as she sat up. “Sorry, little lady. I’ll get right on that five-star meal of yours!”

Her voice was light with sarcasm, but the affection was unmistakable. Skye meowed in reply as if demanding prompt service.

After feeding her furry companion and grabbing a quick bowl of cereal for herself, Lena dressed carefully. Dark slacks, a crisp button-up shirt, and a blazer—professional, clean. She paused at the mirror, brushing a hand over her straightened hair and then adjusted her watch. Her heart leapt when she saw the time.

“Forty-five minutes ‘til nine…” she murmured, grabbing her bag. “And it’s a thirty-five-minute drive if the traffic gods decide to look kindly on me.”

With a self-deprecating snort, Lena jogged to her car, hopped in, and started the engine.

The drive into Angel’s Haven was surprisingly smooth. The farther she got from the congestion of city life, the more peaceful the roads became. Soon enough, she reached the outskirts of a heavily walled compound. Towering trees loomed just beyond the perimeter. Lena blinked at the impressive blend of nature and security. It didn’t feel like a typical government building—more like something pulled from a sleek dystopian movie.

She pulled up to the gate, where a security booth sat off to the left. The guard inside was paying no attention to her whatsoever. Instead, his eyes were glued to a mounted television screen, where the sound of fast-paced commentary culminated in a shouted “GOAL!!!”

“YES! Let’s GO!” the guard hollered, fist-pumping the air.

Lena’s eyebrows rose.

She gave the side of her car a firm rap and held up her badge. “Hey, I don't mean to be rude, but I'm kind of in a hurry. Can you let me in already?”

The guard blinked, finally glancing her way. His face flushed with embarrassment. “Uh—right! Yeah. Go right on in, Agent.”

The metal gates groaned open. Lena drove through, shaking her head in amused disbelief.

Parking was easy enough. Walking up to the building? Not so much. The structure loomed over her like some kind of ancient courthouse, all stone and authority. Its architecture whispered secrets of classified files and whispered power.

Lena swallowed her nerves and marched up the steps. “Hopefully nobody will be upset about how I got this job,” she muttered under her breath. “I don’t even wanna think about pissing someone off on day one.”

She entered the building, a blast of cold air conditioning hitting her instantly. The entryway was all marble and glass, modern elegance clashing with bureaucratic severity. She approached the front desk, where a young woman sat casually behind the counter.

“Excuse me? Can you point me toward the Director’s office?” Lena asked politely.

The woman looked at her, clearly sizing her up. She was a young African American woman with warm brown eyes and long braids adorned with colorful beads. She chewed bubblegum obnoxiously loud, snapping it between her teeth before blowing a large pink bubble. It popped.

“You the newbie Hayes keeps boasting about?” she asked, one eyebrow raised.

“Um… maybe? I don’t—”

The woman cut her off, pressing a button and leaning into a mic.

“Hey, Gran, that girl is here.”

Lena blinked. Gran?

The moment grew even more awkward as the woman said nothing further. But soon, the unmistakable clicking of heels echoed down one of the curved staircases near the entrance.

A woman descended, exuding confidence and elegance with every step. Tall, statuesque, with sharp eyes and a knowing smile.

“Ah, brilliant and an early bird! My favorite kind of employee.”

“Good morning, Director!” Lena said brightly, standing a little straighter.

The woman smiled back. “Imani, dear. Didn’t I tell you to stop chewing gum here? Do it outside before you spit on something important.”

Imani froze. Her eyes widened. “Yes, Granny… I’m sorry,” she mumbled, tossing her gum in the trash beside her.

Director Adebayo turned back to Lena. “Follow me, Ms. Cross. We need to talk about your future as an FBI agent—among other things.”

That last part sent a nervous shiver up Lena’s spine.

The halls of the FBI headquarters buzzed with activity. Agents chatted, moved briskly from one office to another, or huddled over files. Lena tried not to stare at anyone too long or trip over her own feet as she trailed behind the Director.

They passed through three long hallways, each one more intimidating than the last, until they reached a door marked with a sleek plaque: Director Zola Adebayo.

Zola gestured for her to enter. Lena stepped inside. The office was tasteful and minimalistic, its large windows letting in light and offering a stunning view of the woods behind the building.

“Have a seat,” Zola said, walking behind her desk.

Lena obeyed.

“So…” Zola began, folding her hands. “How did you manage to get those notes on the Langford case?”

Lena froze.

Her blood turned to ice.

She had hoped—maybe naively—that the Director wouldn’t ask. Hayes had been gentle, hadn't probed more than he felt comfortable with. But Zola? She wasn’t about to let this slide.

Lena stared at her lap for a moment, then took a deep breath. “I… have an ability,” she began quietly. “One that lets me… go into the past. To experience moments as they happened. That’s how I saw Danny Langford’s death, and how I also obtained the ledger and the notes.”

Her breath hitched. She glanced up.

Zola didn’t look shocked or doubtful. Instead, she smiled. Not mockingly. Not cruelly. A soft, sympathetic smile.

“I figured it was something like that, strange as it might be to hear,” she said. “I mean, how else would you have brought back that ledger? The one that made Cooper confess to the whole damn thing?”

Lena's lips trembled. She had to bite them to stop from crying. She didn’t even realize how desperate she had been to be believed—and now that she was, it nearly overwhelmed her.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

Zola leaned back, hands steepled. “Hmm. In that case, I might have the perfect next case for you. You and the team.”

Lena blinked. “Team?”

To be continued…