As the ancient wooden door closed behind her, the quiet and dimly lit atmosphere of the old house was suddenly pierced by a soft, mischievous giggle. It was Emma, her laughter echoing through the empty halls, filled with satisfaction and amusement. Her smile held a cunning edge, as if she had just pulled off a brilliant prank that only she knew about.
Emma walked toward her desk, her eyes gleaming with secretive thoughts, replaying the events of just a few hours ago. The scene she had orchestrated—from preparing the package to the moment she handed it to Anna—played out in her mind like a slow-motion film.
"I wonder if she's seen what's inside by now," Anna mused, a sly smirk briefly crossing her face. She imagined Anna's expression as she opened the package, discovering the conten
