The first call came as a familiar comfort, my mentor Professor Anya Sharma' s name on the screen, a stable part of my solitary life, her lab my sanctuary.
Then, her voice shattered that peace – a choked whisper, tight with a fear I' d never heard, followed by a man's angry shout, a crash of glass, and dead silence.
I rushed to the police, my heart hammering, only to be met by Detective Miller' s dismissive skepticism as he took down details of Anya' s research and the powerful CEO, Damien Vance, pressuring her.
Hours later, standing over Anya' s body in the morgue, the official explanation of a botched robbery felt like a cruel joke; the specific, brutal injuries screaming of a deliberate execution, not a random mugging.