S04 H255 — You

JOE stands. He picks up the journal. On the cover, someone has scrawled H255 —a file code. Evidence.

A long silence. The guard shifts.

The room is sterile. White walls, a single metal table bolted to the floor, a flickering fluorescent light. It smells of bleach and regret. you s04 h255

JOE GOLDBERG (40s, disheveled but eerily calm) sits in a plastic chair. His hands are uncuffed. That’s the first sign something is wrong. On the table is a leather-bound journal—his. And a single key. JOE stands

Click.