AVA'S POV
Then, from behind one of the columns, a figure emerged.
Hooded. Hands tucked into the oversized sleeves of a navy jacket. Their gait was cautious but steady, eyes scanning the perimeter like someone who had spent their life learning to look over their shoulder.
My heart thudded.
"You're the one who's been messaging me?" I asked, my voice echoing faintly.
The figure stopped a few feet away and finally pulled back the hood.
Lindiwe.
Her face was thinner than I remembered. Her eyes sharper, rimmed with fatigue and fury.
"I didn't think you'd come," she said, her voice hoarse.
"I had to."
She studied me for a beat longer before reaching into her bag and pulling out a worn folder, bound with a cracked rubber band.
"This," she said, offering it to me, "is what Charles was hiding. What I tried to expose."
I took it carefully, flipping open the top.
