But as I pass her, she presses something into my palm. Paper. Folded small.
I close my fist around it automatically.
“Drive safe,” Patricia says. Her eyes meet mine for just a second. Something flickers there—concern, warning, I don’t know—and then it’s gone.
I run. Heels on asphalt. Dress hiked up so I can move.
Throw myself into the car. Alex’s hands immediately on me. Checking my face, my arms, my shoulders?—
“Drive,” I tell her. “Now. Please. Just drive.”
The car moves. Smooth. Fast. Away from the Bellevue.
And my body finally lets go.
It starts with my hands. Shaking so hard I can’t grip anything. I try to pull the seatbelt across my chest and miss. Again. Again. The metal clasp slipping through my fingers like I’ve never used a seatbelt in my life.
“I got it.” Alex reaches over. Clicks it for me. Her hands are shaking too.
Then my legs. Knees bouncing. Trembling. Like they’re trying to run even though I’m sitting down.
Then my teeth. Chattering. Even though the heat is blasting.
“Dylan.” Alex’s voice is scared. “Dylan, talk to me. What happened?”
“I don’t—” My voice comes out wrong. Broken. “I don’t know if that was real.”
“What?”
“The DA. The investigation. They said there’s an ethics violation. The transition documents.” I’m spiraling. Can hear myself spiraling and can’t stop. “But they never told me what I did. Never explained. They just—they took me and?—”
“Okay. Okay.” Alex is trying to stay calm. Failing. “Start from the beginning. What?—”
“He tried to take me upstairs.” The words fall out. Flat. Disconnected. “Private dining rooms. 19th floor. No cameras in those hallways. I know because I’ve reviewed the security protocols. I know exactly what he was?—”
My voice breaks.
“And then they came. Alaina and Patricia and Maria. The DA’s office, they said. Ethics violation. But Dylan—” I turn to look at her. “They never broke character. The whole way out. Even in the service corridor. Even when I asked what I did wrong. They just kept saying Foxglove’s office, confidential investigation, don’t keep the DA waiting.”
“So you don’t know if?—”
“I don’t know anything.” I’m crying now.When did I start crying?“I don’t know if I’m being rescued or investigated. I don’t know if my career is over. I don’t know if Marcus is following us right now. I don’t know?—”
The note.
The paper Maria pressed into my palm.
I uncurl my fist. My fingers are shaking so badly I can barely unfold it.
Alex glances over. “What is that?”
Handwritten. Neat script. Three lines.
You’re safe tonight.Use the numbers.We’re watching. —A
I read it twice. Three times.
Then I start sobbing.
