Later that day, I found myself back in my small office, the hum of the city outside my window a constant reminder of the world continuing to turn. I decided to call the bank manager, hoping she could shed some light on the situation. « Hello, this is Rachel Thompson, » I began, my voice steady despite the uncertainty I felt. « I was wondering if we could discuss the envelope you gave me earlier today. » There was a pause on the other end of the line before she responded. « Ah, yes, Ms. Thompson. I apologize for any confusion. That envelope was meant for internal review, but it seems there was a mix-up. » Her explanation was plausible, yet something about her tone suggested there was more to the story. « I understand, » I said, choosing my words carefully. « But I’d appreciate any additional information you might have. It seems rather unusual, don’t you think? »
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