Meeting Again
The guard's eyes flicked downward, and to his surprise, he saw a glimmer of gold nestled quietly in the folds of his pocket. A single golden coin.
For a brief moment, the guard's confusion deepened. But then, as the weight of the coin registered, so did the meaning behind it. The young man's silent demeanor, the elegant ease with which he carried himself, even the subtle grace of the cat perched on his shoulder—it all painted a picture of someone who knew how to maneuver through the world without drawing attention.
The whisper of a voice reached the guard's ears, though he couldn't pinpoint its source. "Here, take this," it had said, soft but clear. His eyes darted back to the ID card, then up to the young man, who stood still, calm as ever.