The footsteps get closer. Closer.
A kitchen worker rounds the corner. White uniform. Confused look at four women in formal wear standing frozen in the service corridor.
“Ladies? You lost?”
“Chancellor Street exit,” Alaina says smoothly. “Which way?”
He points. We move.
But my heart doesn’t slow down. Won’t slow down.
I hid in a stairwell.
The thought surfaces unbidden.
That’s all I did. I heard footsteps and I hid in a stairwell because I didn’t want to explain why I was in the building at 2 AM.
One decision. One moment of self-preservation.
And now I’m running down a service corridor in a borrowed dress that costs more than my rent, surrounded by politicians who may or may not be saving my life, while a man who has killed before promises he’ll find me.
I’m a paralegal.
I file documents. I make copies. I schedule depositions and organize discovery and make sure the coffee is fresh for client meetings.
I was supposed to help with a routine political transition.
How is this my life?
We burst through the service door. Cold February air hits my bare shoulders like a slap. Chancellor Street. South side of the building. Delivery trucks. Dumpsters. The sound of SEPTA buses on Walnut Street one block over.
I look back.
The corridor stretches behind us. Empty. Fluorescent lights flickering. No one following.
No Marcus in the doorway watching me run.
Somehow that’s worse. If he were there, at least I’d know where he was. But he’s not. He’s back in that ballroom, dealing with Morrison, playing concerned citizen.
Letting me go.
Because he knows where I live. Because he’s been watching me for weeks and he knows—he knows—that I have nowhere to run that he can’t find me.
My eyes fall on a car. The headlight blink once, then twice before the hazards blink on.
A blue sedan. Baby on board sticker on the back window.
Alex.
Oh god. Alex.
She already has the passenger door open. Her face in the window. Pale. Terrified.
Maria guides me toward the car. Professional. Brisk.
“Ms. Wells.” Her voice carries. Loud enough for anyone nearby to hear. “We’ll be in touch about the documentation. Please have your files ready for review.”
Still playing the part.
