The Silent Hand
Ezra sat behind his new mahogany desk, the room brightly lit by a light streaming in from his now fixed windows. Papers were strewn across the surface, the documents detailing his latest ventures and strategies.
The soft ticking of a grandfather clock in the corner added a rhythmic backdrop to the otherwise silent office. He glanced at the clock, noting that it was nearly evening, and sighed. The day had been long and the night promised to be longer still.
He looked around the office. The custodians had done great work. No one could've guessed that a battle that had taken mortal lives had taken place in the office just a week prior.
The door creaked open, and Olivia stepped into the room, her expression serious. She carried a thick folder in her arms, her movements brisk yet careful. Ezra looked up, his curiosity piqued by the urgency in her demeanor.