Not here.
One floor down.
My skin prickles.
I move back to the table and type:
Someone is running a timing pattern on the street. Same person. Three passes. Not looking at the building.
The reply comes instantly.
Stay where you are.
Of course it does.
He’s not here for me, Aaron. He’s measuring you.
That takes longer.
Then:
Explain.
You’re invisible. Which means he’s checking the environment for resistance. He’s not spotting targets. He’s spotting friction.
Silence.
Then:
I’m coming in.
Don’t. Not yet.
My heart is beating faster now, but my mind is clear.
If he sees you break pattern, he knows he’s close. Right now he’s still testing assumptions.
Lark—
I need five more minutes.
Another pause.
Then:
You have three.
Fair.
I watch the reflection again.
09:58.
He doesn’t pass.
10:07.
Still nothing.
