The intercom buzzed. Arianne had been about to leave the office early.
She glanced at the clock. Then at the speaker near the door.
"Ms. Summers?" the receptionist's voice came through. "There is a courier downstairs. Certified delivery. He says it requires your signature."
"At this time?"
"Yes."
"From whom?" She was not expecting any mail.
"He did not specify."
She considered declining until morning.
Then she did not.
"Send him up."
While she waited, she closed the file she had been reviewing. Minimized the remaining windows. The office felt too quiet. Hum of the air conditioning. Nothing else.
The courier arrived carrying a slim document case. He checked her identification, handed over a thick envelope, waited for her signature on a digital pad. Left without conversation. His shoes left faint, damp marks on the polished floor near the entrance. Raining again.
The envelope was heavier than standard correspondence. Paper stock textured.
