Dead Man's Confession

The rain fell in relentless sheets, turning the city into a blur of neon reflections and shadowed alleys. Somewhere in the depths of Boyle Heights, a figure moved with purpose, their steps muffled by the storm. A battered envelope, yellowed at the edges, was clutched tightly in their hand. ​ The library's fluorescent lights flickered as they entered, the hum of the ancient printer filling the sile...