The studio felt different that night.
Not quiet.
Not calm.
Heavy.
Like the walls themselves knew something was about to surface.
Adrian didn't look up when I entered.
He stood near the large window, hands braced against the table, shoulders tense.
Daniel stayed outside.
Not because I asked him to.
Because he understood this wasn't his conversation anymore.
"You came," Adrian said quietly.
"You told me to."
Silence stretched.
Thick.
"You're shaking," he added without turning.
"So are you."
That made him exhale softly.
Almost like a broken laugh.
"Fair."
I stepped closer.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Like approaching something fragile.
"Tell me about the envelope," I said.
His entire body went still.
"I should have told you before it got this far," he said.
"Yes."
"I didn't because"
"Because it makes you look worse?" I cut in.
Silence.
Then:
"Yes."
The honesty hit harder than denial ever could.
"What was in it?" I asked.
He turned then.
Slowly.
