[134 Days Left to Live]
Cassius's office was unusually quiet, yet the silence didn't offer peace. It was the kind that pressed down on the chest, thick with unspoken thoughts. The scent of old books, paper, and the faint aroma of black coffee hung in the air like time itself had slowed down. Kendrick stood across the desk, arms crossed, jaw tight, staring down the man seated calmly before him.
"Come on, Cassius. Where are the files?" Kendrick's voice cut through the stillness. It wasn't the first time he'd asked, and judging by the way his brow was furrowed and his fingers clenched tightly around the folder he brought, it wouldn't be the last.
Cassius didn't even flinch. He sat with his elbows on the table, fingers steepled, his unreadable expression not offering Kendrick a single hint of compromise.
