ASHER
When I step into my office bright and early, the morning light slants across the steel edges of my desk, glinting off the glass nameplate that has barely been moved since the day I assumed this office. However, that's not what stops me cold in my track.
What stops me in my tracks is the sight of a letter folded neatly, sitting on the desk. I don't remember leaving anything in here yesterday. My pulse slows down as I reach for it. The handwriting on the envelope makes my stomach dip; it's slanted and painfully familiar. It's Dean's letter.
Quickly, I unfold it, scanning through the familiar words while my chest contracts with every line. There's nothing new in the content. It's the same letter I lost but then, my fingers brush the back of the page.
There's a note there, freshly inked in yet another familiar handwriting.
"We need to talk — Father".
I stare at the words a lot longer than I should. My hand closes around the letter as a knock breaks the silence.
