Two days later, I sat across from my friend and colleague, Mark, at a small café near the office. “You’re not going to believe this,” I said, sliding the hunting license across the table. He picked it up, eyebrows raised.
“You? Hunting?” he chuckled, then paused as he realized I wasn’t joking. “Wait, you’re serious?”
“Dead serious,” I replied, recounting my visit to the Department and the unsettling discovery of the online application.
Mark leaned back, his expression turning thoughtful. “Could someone have hacked your account?”
“Maybe,” I conceded, though the idea seemed far-fetched. “But who would go through all that trouble just to get me a hunting license?”
Mark shrugged. “Maybe it’s a prank?”
I shook my head, frustration mounting. “It just doesn’t make any sense,” I muttered, staring out the window as pedestrians hurried by, oblivious to the turmoil inside me.
The conversation shifted to work, but my mind lingered on the mystery. That evening, I resolved to dig into my online account history, hoping for some clue that would shed light on the situation.
Read more on the next page ⬇️⬇️⬇️
