The evening before

The hallway of the homicide division smelled of cold coffee and wet wool. The name of her last case was still half-erased on the whiteboard, like a mistake that refused to disappear. Lena Berger paused in front of it for a moment, as if she had to prove that she wouldn't make any more mistakes today.

A new email flashed on her desk. Subject: Information from the Public Order Office – “Frost & Flamme” event.

She opened it without much expectation. Most of the time, it was anonymous weirdos looking for attention. But the very first sentence made her sit up straighter.

Beneath all your glittering lights, the truth is rotting. One of you will not go home this year.

No date, no specific threat. But the wording was spot on. Someone who had taken pains to sound like a mixture of judge and preacher. Further down: the name of the restaurant, the big charity Christmas dinner, the list of guests of honor. And then, scattered almost casually, like a poisoned hook:

Ask Jonas Keller.

Lena leaned back. The name meant nothing to her. One of many businesspeople who bought a clear conscience with donations. But the combination of public event, politics, anonymous resentment—and this specific threat—stuck with her.

Outside in the courtyard, the Christmas lights of the executive committee flickered. For the rest of the city, it was just another December evening.

For Lena, it felt like the moment before a case begins.