Page 64 of Fractured Loyalties
Because if Elias is coming, it means he saw more than the note.
It means this just became real.
I sit still, like movement might trigger something I can’t see.
Every small sound becomes loaded—the creak in the hallway, the shift of air through the vent, the murmur of voices outside the clinic door. I check the note again. The pen pressure. The way the folds were made—creased like it was meant to slide easily into a pocket.
Three minutes pass.
Four.
Then a knock—three short raps.
I rise and open the door. It’s Elias.
His face is thunder.
No words. He steps inside, closes the door behind him, and immediately starts scanning the room. His eyes sweep the floor, the corners, the walls. The camera light above still blinks.
“Was anything moved?” he asks.
“No. Nothing obvious.”
He walks to the desk. Eyes the note. Picks it up using the corner of a tissue.
“Where exactly was it?”
“Under the keyboard. Folded like that.”
He nods once. Pulls something from his coat—a small black light pen—and clicks it on. He checks the desk surface, the keyboard edges.
“Prints?” I ask.
“Maybe. Or oil marks. Anything.”
The air between us is taut.
“You think Caleb sent someone?”
Elias looks at me. “Yes.”
I swallow. “Do you know who?”
He hesitates. Then says, “I have a name.”
“Tell me.”
“Lyle Vance.”
I blink.
I know that name.
He worked one floor down from Caleb at the non-profit. Smiled too much. Always remembered my coffee order. I thought he was harmless.
Apparently not.
“You’re sure?” I ask.
