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“What is going on with you?” I ask.
He laughs bitterly. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
“Try me.”
He doesn’t. Instead, he takes a step back. Then another. Putting distance between us likeI’mthe dangerous one.
“If you say yes,” he says, “when you go to the fiftieth floor, when you meet with him, just... be careful.”
“Careful of what?”
He glances around like Lukas might be in the vicinity. That’s almost funny—the thought that we could overlook a man that huge or that foreboding. “My father collects things he finds interesting, Rae.”
A sudden chill runs down my spine. “What doesthatmean?”
“It means what it means.” He’s retreating further now. Backing toward the shadows he came from. “I tried to warn you. Remember that.”
“Kir, wait?—”
But he doesn’t. He disappears, swallowed up by the darkness of the hallway. I hear his footsteps on the back stairs, fast and fading, then gone altogether.
The elevator doors start to close. I shove my hand between them just in time and step in.
As I do, I shiver. I don’t quite know why. I’ve done five years’ worth of rides up and down in this brightly lit box. This time feels different than all the others, though.
It feels like something’schanging.
I hit the button for the lobby. My reflection looks back at me from the mirrored walls. Gaunt-eyed, weary, andshook.
He collects things he finds interesting.What the hell is that supposed to mean?
Does that meanme?
4
RAE
LAZAREV GLOBAL FACILITIES REQUEST
FROM:L. Lazarev, Office of the Chairman
DATE:November 8, 2025 | 03:11 A.M.
Relocate workstation 50-E-217 (R. Everett) to Floor 40 by 0600 Monday. Remove all evidence of prior occupancy.
Ms. Everett isnotto be consulted.
The weekend crawls by in a haze of boiling anxiety and cold pizza.
I rehearse my speech a hundred times, everywhere I go. In the shower. On the subway. Late at night, while staring at the ceiling when I can’t sleep.
Mr. Lazarev, I appreciate the offer, but I’m going to have to decline.
Mr. Lazarev, I’ve thought about it, and I don’t think this is the right fit.
Mr. Lazarev, thanks but no thanks; pretty please don’t murder me and chop me up into little bite-sized pieces.
I practice all the different possible tones, too. Firm. Polite. Professional. Apologetic. Nice Rae. Stern Rae. Hot Rae. Cold Rae. Red Rae. Blue Rae. One Rae. Two Rae.
