Carmen sat in a corner booth of the dimly lit café, her eyes staring blankly out the window. The early morning light filtered through the thick curtains, casting long shadows across the worn wooden floor.
She took a slow sip of her coffee, her lips curling slightly in irritation as she glanced at her watch. The man was late. She hated waiting, especially when it came to matters of such importance.
Just as she was about to check her watch again, the door of the café creaked open. A man in a gray trench coat entered, his eyes scanning the room briefly before settling on Carmen. He hurried over, his footsteps quick and purposeful.
"I'm sorry I'm late," he said, sliding into the seat across from her. He reached into his coat and pulled out a thick file, setting it on the table between the
