The control room hummed with tension as we huddled around the bank of monitors. Six screens displayed different angles of the packhouse entrance, each showing the same timestamp from earlier this morning.
"There," Kaelen pointed sharply at one screen. "Rewind it."
The security guard manning the controls tapped at his keyboard. The footage jumped backward, frames flickering until a hooded figure appeared at the edge of the frame.
My heart hammered against my ribs as I watched the mysterious visitor approach our door. They moved with purpose, head down, face obscured by the hood of a dark jacket. The jewelry box was clutched in their gloved hands.
"Zoom in," Orion ordered, leaning closer to the screen.
The image magnified, but the figure had positioned themselves perfectly to avoid showing their face to any camera. They placed the box at the doorstep, rang the bell, and slipped away with swift, fluid movements.
