My meeting with the Sheikh is nothing like what I expected earlier this week, but it still manages to light up my day in a way I didn’t know I needed. Not because it gives me answers—no—but because it gives me confirmation. A dangerous kind of confirmation. The case I’ve been chasing isn’t just in my mind
Something is wrong.
Deeply wrong.
And now, I’m walking straight into the lion’s den with that knowledge sitting heavy in my chest, pressing against my ribs like a warning I can’t silence.
My notepad is tucked securely inside my bag as I head toward the elevator, pressing the button for the last floor. The metal doors slide shut with a soft chime, sealing me inside. As the elevator descends, my reflection stares back at me from the mirrored walls, hair neat, posture composed, face calm
