The email arrived at 4:00 PM, precisely two hours before dinner service was supposed to begin.

Julian Thorne sat in the suffocating silence of his dark office, staring at the glowing screen of his laptop. His eyes were bloodshot, the harsh blue light illuminating the tear tracks dried on his cheek

Six months later.

The high-pitched whine of a power drill echoed down the busy, sunlit street. Clara Vance stood on the pristine sidewalk, a steaming cup of artisan coffee in her hands, watching a crew of construction workers drill thick sheets of plywood over the large glass windows of the buildi