Paper Trails

The back office of the Chen Import Shop smelled of oxidized copper and damp paper—a scent that once signaled the quiet rhythm of a family business, but now felt like the sterile, suffocating air of a crime scene. Outside, the rhythmic groan of shipping containers being stacked at the port provided a mechanical heartbeat to the district, a pulse Elaine had spent her life trying to outrun. Now, she was the one holding the rhythm.

Elaine hunched over the heavy oak desk, her fountain pen hovering over the vellum-like pages of her father’s ledger. She wasn’t merely reading; she was trans

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