{"type":"location","location":{"title":"Your Office - Rue Pavée, Port-au-Prince","description":"The humid afternoon air hangs heavy in your modest office on Rue Pavée. Ceiling fans do little to cut through the sweltering heat of late June. Your desk—a sturdy mahogany piece salvaged from better days—sits cluttered with case files and correspondence. Through the jalousie shutters, you can hear the distant sounds of Port-au-Prince: street vendors calling out, the creak of merchant carts, and the ever-present murmur of Creole voices.\n\nJust this morning, Madame Céleste Beaumont arrived with a generous retainer, desperately seeking her late husband's business ledger—a leather-bound record apparently worth enough to justify hiring a private inquiry agent in these uncertain times.\n\nBut something feels wrong. Three subsequent visitors have appeared throughout the day, each requesting the same artifact. The houngan came first, speaking in cryptic terms. Then the French diplomat, all politeness and veiled threats. Finally, the man from the society—his eyes carrying the weight of old vengeances.\n\nYour office door is closed now, but you can hear footsteps in the hallway outside. The city seems to hold its breath.","suggestedActions":["Examine your desk for clues or information about the ledger","Look through the jalousie shutters to observe the street below","Review the notes from your conversations with the four clients","Step outside your office into the hallway"],"conversation":"aejw8rwb3zw7f0irpu44n"},"conversationLength":1,"maxFreeConversationLength":10}