“Mr. Graves couldn’t make it, but he asked me to give you this.” Kendrick stretches his hand toward me, handing me a white envelope. Reluctance floods my veins as I take the white paper in my palm, glancing from it back to Kendrick, who’s keeping himself still as a statue. I squint my eyes at him, but he’s still unmoving. “Is this Mr. Graves?” I raise a brow, pushing the envelope towards him slightly and inspecting it. Kendrick frowns, his eyes bulging out of his head. If he thinks I’m crazy, he’s not hiding it. “No.”
