Joahna Moriarty sat across from Victor LeClair in the dimly lit booth of the Black Raven, hanging on his every word. His voice was low and cautious, the murmurs of the club's patrons fading into the background as he shared what he knew.
"The Temple of the Second Order," LeClair began, "wasn't just a criminal organization. It was a brotherhood, built on loyalty and secrecy. When your mentor, Sherlock Holmes, started dismantling it, those who escaped went underground. They've been rebuilding, slowly and carefully."
Joahna nodded, her mind racing. "And now they're back, mimicking old crimes to send a message. But why now? And why target me?"
LeClair sighed, glancing around to ensure they weren't being overheard. "It's personal. The new leader of the Order has a vendetta against you."
Joahna's eyes narrowed. "And who is this leader?"
