SERAFINA Not from him though. Not right then either. A few minutes later when I snapped from what felt like hypnosis. I walked back to my room, and went back to bed, phone in hand, pretending I could sleep. The message came at 6:04 a.m. No salutations, no name. Just a photo. The headline didn’t hit me. It was the kind people skip—Anonymous Donation from Richard’s boards. But there was a date on it. That date. Because I knew it, it was the same one as the card. The one Nadine had circled twice. The one I’d been tripping over in different contexts for days. I sat up in bed. Not like a jolt, not even fast. Just slow, cold, full-bodied awareness. The kind that starts at your fingertips and climbs its way up. My phone was still in my hand. The image was fully loaded. The screen didn’t dim, but I did. Not because I didn’t understand, but because I finally did. Does that make sense…? It wasn’t about the card or the folder anymore. This— This was the map. And every plac
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