The envelope was sealed with a wax stamp, a symbol of finality. Inside, there were a few papers: a will, a life-and-death agreement and a titanium tag etched with a string of numbers.
With steady hands, she signed her name before dialing the number scrawled on the paper.
After hanging up, she took a slow, deliberate look around the house. A pang of reluctance gripped her chest.
This house had been her home for six years.
What had begun as a marriage of gratitude had, over time, blossomed into something deeper, something real. The bond she had built here made the thought of leaving sting more than she had ever anticipated.
But she pushed the feeling aside. It was best to part on good terms, especially now that her decision was made.
In the stillness of the night, she awoke parched and went to pour a glass of water. As she passed the living room, she noticed the bathroom light was still on and instinctively turned it off.
The sudden, sharp scream of a woman shattered the silence, leaving her frozen in place.
Moments later, the sharp click of the living room light echoed through the silence. Raiden stepped in, his eyes narrowing as they landed on her.
“What are you doing out here?”