The invitation arrived sealed.
Not emailed.
Not posted publicly.
Delivered.
That was how Mira knew it wasn't casual.
She found the envelope on the café counter at 7:13 a.m., resting between the tip jar and a stack of folded receipts like it had always belonged there.
No return address.
Just her name.
Handwritten.
Careful.
She didn't open it immediately.
She stood there, staring at it, her coffee cooling in her other hand.
Leo walked in, still half asleep.
"If that's another ethics disclosure form, I will fake my death."
"It's not a form," she said quietly.
He blinked.
"That tone suggests doom."
She exhaled slowly and broke the seal.
Inside was a single page.
Cream paper. Heavy stock.
Formal.
She read it once.
Then again.
Then she felt the ground shift.
The National Civic Reconstruction Council formally invites Mira Lawson to serve as Executive Director of Strategic Reform Operations.
The rest blurred.
Full voting authority.
Independent oversight.
