Every ship lantern detail.
Every sketch she had refined for months.
Gone.
Like she had never existed.
I stood by the printer holding the pages so tightly they bent in my hands. Handtherapy services
Lucas from accounting walked past, saw my face, and immediately backed away.
“I don’t know what that is,” he said. “And I would like to continue not knowing.”
Smart man.
I carried the deck to Tessa’s desk.
She was already there.