I never actually held the envelope in my hands. I never unfolded its contents or felt the weight of the paper between my fingers. But I came to understand it more clearly than if I had. What it contained wasn’t just information—it was intent. Careful, deliberate, calculated intent.
Brandon was the one who found it.
At first, it sounded like something small. A document here, a note there, pieces that didn’t quite make sense on their own. But when he began to connect them, when he laid everything out side by side, the shape of it became undeniable. The envelope wasn’t random. It wasn’t something hastily put together.
It was a plan.
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