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I thought back to my own past. Ten years ago, I’d solved the “Midnight Heist” case, where a thief used a mirror to see around corners. The thief’s modus operandi was called the “Reflection Method” . If the cipher required a reflective key, perhaps it needed my own —my personal signature.

As I sat down at my desk, I noticed a peculiar letter on my desk. It was addressed to me, but there was no return address. The letter was cryptic, to say the least. It read: usepov240401richelleryanprivatedicktecti hot

He placed a battered USB drive on the desk and left as silently as he’d arrived. I stared at the drive for a moment, then at the envelope. Inside was a single line, handwritten in a hurried scrawl: I thought back to my own past