Day 53 – Hour 006"The Envelope"
Tamber hadn't moved far from the doorway. He leaned back against the shelves with the ease of someone used to waiting for others to catch up. His eyes still lingered on me — scanning, not with suspicion but calculation.
"You've been shooting long?" he asked casually.
I shook my head. "Not even three weeks."
He raised a brow, clearly unconvinced. "You sure about that?"
Vex laughed from behind the counter, helping himself to one of the rolls of film I had just finished organizing.
"I told you," he said, nudging Tamber with his elbow. "Kid's got an eye. Quiet, steady — like a fox pretending to be a rock."
"A photogenic rock," Tamber quipped.
Marco, unmoved behind the workbench, kept slicing his negatives with precision. But I noticed the slightest pause in his fingers. Maybe pride. Maybe annoyance.
Vex noticed too.
"Oh, don't act like you didn't tell me the same thing," Vex said, grinning. "You practically sighed yesterday — 'He's not slow anymore.' And you never give anyone that."
Marco didn't reply.
He didn't have to.
The silence was admission enough.
Tamber crossed the room and picked up one of my contact sheets. He tilted it under the light, nodding slowly. "This blur control. These angles. You sure you haven't done this before?"
"I listen," I said, not trying to defend myself. Just stating the truth.
That got a low, satisfied chuckle out of Marco — barely audible, but unmistakable.
Vex caught it and pounced.
"Oh! Now you're proud," he said, dragging out the vowels like a mischievous older brother. "Tamber, you should've seen him in the first week — all stiff arms and dead space. But now look at him. Our little apprentice all grown up."
"I'm not—" I started, but Tamber cut me off with a grin.
"Don't fight it. You've got Marco talking about you like you're his last good camera."
Another pause from Marco. This one longer. He set down the lens cloth and looked at me — not to scold, not to correct, just to observe.
That was more unnerving than anything.
Tamber finally pulled the envelope from his jacket.
He handed it to me without ceremony.
"Here," he said. "You've earned it. And we've said enough about you — time you prove something."
I took it with both hands.
The seal wasn't the Club's. No wax. No stamp. Just paper and weight.
I opened it carefully.
Inside was a folded letter. No fancy calligraphy. No coded phrases. Just clean block print — the kind someone types when they expect you to obey, not admire.
[ASSIGNMENT:Capture a minimum of 3 photos of the man known as Ero Seline — known locally as "Ilin's Father" — in a private meeting with an unknown figure. Location is within the district's west end.
Target arrives at Garnet & Fifth every Thursday between Hour 015 and Hour 017.
Take only observational photos. No interference. No interaction.
Return negatives to the handler. No copies. No leaks.
Failure to remain unseen will void the task. You will not be reassigned.
This is a non-Club operation. A personal referral. Treat it accordingly.]
My eyes lingered on the last line.
Non-Club.
There was no insignia. No mention of the $100 Club. No formatting I recognized from the last instruction sheet. Just words. Orders. And a name I hadn't thought much about — not like this.
Ero Seline.
Ilin's father.
When I looked up from the paper, something in my expression must've betrayed my confusion.
Because Vex burst out laughing.
"Haha—oh, he thought it was from them!"
Tamber joined him, not with a full laugh, but with that smile people wear when they're in on the joke before you.
Even Marco — quiet, sharp, composed Marco — allowed the corner of his mouth to lift. A smirk. There and gone in a heartbeat.
It was the first time I'd seen it.
And it landed harder than the laughter.
I dropped my gaze.
Not out of shame. But because I'd been read too easily.
They knew exactly how tightly the Club had wrapped itself around my thoughts.
"No," Vex said, still chuckling. "Not everything comes from your little shadowy sponsors. Some things —" he tapped the envelope — "just come from us."
Tamber stepped forward again, his voice now level. "You don't owe us anything, Nemi. But if you do this, we'll know what kind of lens you really see through."
He tapped the contact sheet again. "And Marco will stop pretending he doesn't like you."
I allowed myself a breath through the nose — half exhale, half sigh.
There wasn't a choice.
Not really.
But I nodded anyway.
"Garnet and Fifth," I repeated.
"Hour 015," Tamber confirmed. "That's two days from now. Don't be early. Don't be late."
"And don't be seen," Marco added.
It was the only thing he said after the envelope was opened.
But it rang like a closing bell.