Anna's POV
I was reviewing quarterly forecasts when Rachel burst through the door without knocking something she never did unless it was urgent.
"Ms. Shaw," she said, slightly breathless. Her usually immaculate appearance betrayed haste loose strands escaping her tight bun. In her hands was a small wooden box, not unlike the rabbit carving. "I found something."
I set my pen down and leaned back.
"The auction house?"
She nodded, placing the box on my desk with deliberate care. "It's from the same collection. The auction manager gave it to me personally."
It was simple yet elegant clearly handcrafted from the same wood as the rabbit. I ran my fingers over its smooth grain and felt an odd shiver crawl up my spine. Inside was a folded note, scrawled in an unfamiliar hand: "Still has a conscience."
"'Still has a conscience,'" I read aloud, brow furrowing.
Rachel watched me closely. "What do you think it means?"
