Cassian’s world came to a standstill. It wasn’t just the ancient dust and bloodstains inside the silver briefcase, but Kenneth Stark’s gaze, which seemed to strip away the disguise he had worn for years. The Northvale m******e investigation files. Did Stark know his true identity?
The once-tense lobby transformed into a scene of whispered horror. Every eye, from the pale Grandmother to the low-level staff who had just returned to work, was fixed on the files Stark presented. The faint hiss of the building’s air conditioning now sounded like the whistle of death.
"This is nothing but a coincidence," Grandmother said, trying to steady herself, her voice trembling slightly. "Old documents... they don't belong to Valerian. Leave, Mr. Stark. You are overstepping your bounds." "Bounds? Oh, Old
