Two weeks had passed since Anthony's initial intelligence briefing, and the apartment had settled into a rhythm of quiet preparation. The morning sun streamed through the windows as I made my way to Evelyn's room, carrying a cup of her preferred tea—Earl Grey with a touch of honey, I've noticed how Sienna has made her preferences switch from coffee to tea.
I knocked softly on her door, hearing the rustle of papers from within.
"Come in," came her muffled voice.
I entered to find her sitting at her desk, her familiar black blindfold secured over her eyes, surrounded by neat stacks of documents and files. Even without sight, she moved with the precision of someone who had long ago adapted to working in darkness. Her Psychological Insight is really like a cane for her when I'm in the room. Thankfully she could still remove the blindfold when I'm gone. Though I have to deal with that stupid Cain Protocol soon enough.
