It came in August.
A letter. There was no name signed. No return adress. We didn't know who had sent it to us. Whoever did, though, was probably important; if only judging by the condition of the envelope itself. It was a soft, creamy white. In the left corner, a waxy seal with the intricate design of a hawk was all that made it special. I should have left it alone. Should have the thrown the thing into the trash and never looked back. But I didn't, curiosity overtook me. I ripped the crisp fold open and looked inside. In a blunt, man-like scroll, there was merely a sentance:
New York airport, 10 o'clock, bring everything important to you.
I think, at that exact moment, my life changed forever.
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