The entire corridor suddenly felt louder. Brighter. More dangerous.
Her breathing hitched as she made her way toward the elevator.
Just walk. Just breathe. Just get to the elevator.
A ding echoed through the quiet. Halfway down the hall, she froze.
The elevator.
She hadn’t called it.
Her pulse slammed into her throat. She backed against the wall, listening hard.
A soft scrape. Something rolling. Footsteps — slow, dragging, deliberate.
Her blood iced.
Security wouldn’t move like that. And Hale . . . If Hale were here?—
Norah backed toward the wall, heart stuttering, her mind tripping over possibilities she didn’t dare name. She pressed herself into the shallow recess beside the coffee station, pulse hammering against her ribs.
The footsteps grew louder.
A shadow stretched long across the far wall.
Norah’s breath caught. She held still, muscles trembling as she clutched her shoes like a weapon she’d never be able to use.
The shadow rounded the corner.
A metallicclang, then a low grumble. “Of course it breaks onmyshift. Perfect.”
Charlie. The janitor.
Pushing a supply cart with a squeaky wheel.
He stopped when he saw her, eyebrows lifting behind his wire-rim glasses. “Miss Winslow? What are you doing here? You scared me half to death.”
Norah’s legs nearly gave out. Charlie was harmless. In his late 60s, the man was built like someone her mom could take in a fight.
She forced a breathless laugh. “Sorry. I—forgot something. Just finishing up.”
Charlie shook his head, already reaching for the trash bin near the break room. “You all work too much. Your boss should be paying overtime for midnight visits.”
She managed a smile, her lungs slowly relearning how to expand. “You’re not wrong.”
He waved her off with a knowing little grin. “Go home, kiddo. The building does not need you this late.”
She nodded, whispering something like thanks as she hurried past him. Her knees felt like water. The adrenaline was still sharp and sour in her throat, but her heartbeat finally eased from panic to something closer to human.
In the elevator, doors sliding shut, she sagged against the mirrored wall and closed her eyes.
It was just Charlie. Just a cart. Just a normal building on a normal night.
But her hands still shook.
Norah stepped out into the cool night air, the glass doors whispering shut behind her. Her lungs felt scraped raw, her nerves still buzzing like frayed wires. Before she could fully breathe, her phone lit up.
Marshall: Two blocks north. Black SUV. Headlights off.
