He paused, his gaze sweeping across the room as if measuring each reaction before advancing to the next slide. A photograph of a man and a woman filled the screen. Beneath their faces, brief case summaries appeared, each stamped with the stark truth of their deceased status.

“These two individuals were unrelated in every discernible way except their age group,” Eric said, his tone emphasizing the significance. “Besides having what we now know was Siren in their systems at the time of death, they both hid caches of it throughout their properties. This is a connection we simply cannot afford to ignore.”

Unconsciously, I straightened in my chair, my eyes glued to the slide. I don’t remember that being in our files. How could I have missed something this important? No—I wouldn’t have overlooked this. Did Michael not tell me? A knot of unease twisted sharp and cold in my stomach.

“And this happened when…?” My voice wavered more than I wanted it to.

“Just four months after the Proditio Wharf incident,” Eric replied, meeting my eyes briefly before turning back to the board.

A cold pit formed in my stomach. At that time, I was still recovering from the incident and could not work until they cleared me. Why hadn’t Avery caught it? And Jack… he had to have known. A director wouldn’t miss something like this. My gaze snapped toward him. The moment our eyes met, his flickered away.

“Did you know about this?” I asked sharply, the accusation barely veiled.

Jack adjusted his tie with infuriating precision; his attention fixed on Eric.

“Well,” he began, his tone casual, “someone brought it to my attention. But since we’d already closed the Lobelia case, I wrote it off as lingering remnants fading out. So, I shelved it.”

A dizzy wave of frustration washed over me.

“And you didn’t think to tell the team? So, we’d at least be in the loop?” My voice rose despite my attempts to contain it.

His dark eyes snapped to me, steel glinting beneath the surface.

“As the director,” Jack said evenly, “I choose what information is necessary to share. I decided it wasn’t. Looking back, it was a misjudgment. We’ll handle it now. Alright?”

The dismissal was clear as day. Let it go. 

Defeated, I sank back into my chair, frustration settling like a weight on my chest.

Eric slid two glossy forensic photos across the table, the harsh fluorescent lights reflecting off their surfaces. “Look closer,” he instructed. “Beneath the grime… Lobelia’s mark. On both bodies. Fresh.” 

His voice lowered, sharpened.

“This isn’t a ghost from the past. It suggests a living, breathing network. One likely fueling the Siren trade and leaving bodies like breadcrumbs.”

Our eyes met. A silent question. No, a warning.

“What happened yesterday wasn’t random,” Eric continued, a dangerous edge in his voice. “I can’t pinpoint why they left such a bloodbath, but it was definitely a message. At first, I thought of justifying it as a mere taunt toward your team. However, with how direct it was, it’s an obvious threat toward you. Why just you and not the team… perhaps because only you and a now deceased officer were at the scene? Though I’m still trying to work that one out.”

Silence descended… heavy, suffocating. Avery glanced toward me, the worry in his eyes unmistakable. I offered a small, brittle nod, a ghost of a smile. Okay? How could I be okay?

My hands trembled beneath the table as dread pooled cold and deep.

Yesterday’s carnage… a message? All that for a message? It grew even more necessary for me to unlock whatever fragments of memory still hid behind the fog. Something in there—anything—might give us more information about this. 

The silence stretched, each tick of the unseen clock amplifying the weight in the room.

Jack finally broke it, clearing his throat loudly before speaking. 

“So,” he said, disappointment sharpening into something harder, “if this is true… the victory we thought we had? Meaningless. Lobelia’s been out there, pulling strings while we pat ourselves on the back.”

His chair groaned as he stood. He braced his hands on the table, knuckles white.

“I’ll brief the superiors immediately. The rest of you… try to salvage what’s left of the day.”

A chorus of reluctant nods followed as he left. Avery rose and moved toward me, concern etched visibly across his face. 

“Everything alright, Sel?” he asked quietly, a stark contrast to Jack’s earlier harshness.

My mind drifted back from its spiral, pulled by the gentleness in his voice.

“Yeah… just processing. A little spacey, but I’m fine.”

The lie hung between us. He didn’t call me on it; he just searched my eyes, something unfamiliar and warm flickering there. He squeezed my shoulder before turning to Kari, who was collecting her papers. 

“Well,” she said softly, “we can’t help that Jack hid something this important from us, can we?”

She nudged Avery, rolling her eyes toward Jack’s empty seat.

Then — clap!

“Alright! Let’s keep busy until it’s time to go home!” she chimed and skipped out, glowing with her usual positivity.

I found myself alone in my office, staring at the glass window long after the meeting had ended. My fingertips traced loose circles on the smooth surface of my desk. In the darkened window, my pale, distant, ghostly reflection hovered. I was simultaneously thinking about everything and nothing at all.

A light tap brushed my cheek. 

Avery’s face appeared beside mine. I turned slowly, meeting his green eyes.

“Drinks?” he asked, wearing that familiar half-smile; the one that tugged stubbornly at the corners of my stress.

“Hmm… I should probably just head home,” I whispered. “Things have been… intense.”

He chuckled softly and took my hand, coaxing me towards the door. “Exactly why need drinks,” he murmured, his breath brushing my ear.

Ever the persistent ray of sunshine since college, always lifting me up. Maybe this was better than stewing alone.

“Mind if I tag along? Consider it my welcome party?”

Eric’s bright voice cut through the moment.

I glanced at Avery. His polite expression didn’t mask the flicker of annoyance as he looked at Eric. Still, there was no real reason to say no. Maybe this was the perfect chance to probe the whole ‘childhood friends’ theory.

Eric’s bright smile made the answer simple.

“Sure, why not.”

“Sweet! Let’s go. I found a great place nearby,” Eric said, gesturing toward the exit.

“Hold up,” Avery interjected, a playful smirk forming. “If it’s a welcome party, newbie, you’re coming to our spot.”

----------------------------------------------------

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Art: Petra Eggert