I Am Syd Stone | RELIABLE × HANDBOOK |
"The Board wants it back," Miller said. "No questions asked."
"You’re late, Syd," the man across from me whispered. He didn’t look up from his napkin, which he was shredding into tiny, precise confetti. I am Syd Stone
The neon sign above the diner flickered, casting a rhythmic violet bruise across my knuckles. I stared at the coffee—black, lukewarm, and bitter enough to peel paint. "The Board wants it back," Miller said