I walked toward him before my feet could decide for me.
He didn’t open the door.
“Confirmation code,” he said.
His voice was low and flat, with no curiosity in it. Not my name. Not why I was there. Not any of the normal questions a person might ask a woman standing alone in the cold with a bag from a discount store and fear under her lipstick.
I read the six digits from my phone.
His gaze moved to the screen, then to my face, then to the camera above the door. “Put the phone away.”
I did.
He touched the small device clipped inside his jacket cuff and waited. The cold slid under my coat while the door stayed shut in front of me.
A lock clicked.
He pulled the brass handle open. Warm air spilled out, carrying the smell of lilies, polished wood, and expensive men’s cologne.
“Go to the reception desk,” he said. “Give the code again.”
The entry hall had ivory walls, black marble underfoot, and a chandelier shaped like falling ice. My low heels sounded too loud on the floor. A woman in a fitted black dress stood behind a narrow desk with a tablet in front of her and a discreet earpiece tucked behind one smooth brown wave of hair. Her dress was plain enough to be called a uniform and expensive enough to make the word uniform feel like a joke.
She didn’t smile. “Confirmation code.”
I gave it.
She typed. “I need your ID.”
My fingers fumbled once with the zipper of my bag. I hated that. I hated that she saw it. I handed over my license, and she compared it to the tablet.
“Nadia Yelchin,” she said.
Hearing my full name in that room made the skin between my shoulders tighten.
“Yes.”
“You confirmed voluntary entry by text.”
“Yes.”
“You submitted a photo.”
“Yes.”
“You understand payment depends on acceptance and final settlement.”
My hand closed around the strap of my bag. “I understand the payment is guaranteed if I’m accepted.”
Her dark eyes lifted to mine. “If the sale settles, payment releases according to contract terms.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the one I can give.”
She had a tablet, a desk, a locked drawer, and men near every exit. I had three days and no money.
She turned the tablet toward me. “Read it. Sign where indicated.”
