I stood in the open doorway, staring at the brown envelope lying on the doorstep. The street was silent. The lamps cast long pools of light onto the pavement, but there was no one walking away. No waiting car. No movement. Only the sound of the wind.
Rose came to stand beside me. Without saying anything, she picked up the envelope and carried it inside. Neither of us spoke until the front door was locked again.
I opened the envelope carefully. Inside was a single folded sheet of cream paper. No greeting. No signature. Only a place, a time, and one instruction.
St. Dunstan’s Church
Tomorrow. 8:00 p.m.
Bring the key. Come alone.
Beneath it, in smaller handwriting:
If you want the truth, trust no one until you arrive.
The sentence unsettled me more than the invitation itself. I immedi
