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RUBY JUNE. The morning had passed in a quiet hum, the sound of coffee brewing in the kitchen and the rhythmic tapping of Doreen’s fingers on her tablet filling the room. I leaned back in my chair, spinning my mug slowly, watching the swirling steam. Doreen, my ever-diligent assistant, was sitting across from me, reviewing my calendar for the week. “You know,” she said, not looking up, “you are booked solid for the next two days. Are you sure you don’t want to reschedule some of this?” I smiled softly, appreciating her concern. “I will be fine. A little work won’t hurt.” Before she could respond, the doorbell rang. Both of us looked up in surprise. “Are you expecting a package?” Doreen asked, raising an eyebrow. I shook my head, setting my coffee down. “Not that I know of.” Curiou