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Lo is on the floor.

For a second the room does not make sense. Then it does, and it hits in the chest. She is naked. Clothes dropped along the hall. The blouse. The skirt. One heel on its side. Blood on her thigh, her stomach, the desk, the floor. No one else. Only Lo. Hair still yesterday’s color. Eyes open.

“No.”

The word comes out raw. Knees hit the tile harder than they should. Her skin is cold. Two fingers on her throat. She has no pulse.

“Lo.”

She does not answer.

My hands start to shake. Sitting back on my heels is the only way to swallow and get a full breath. No jacket over her. That was Noah. Not twice. I get up too fast and the room tilts. Out in the hall the police number is already ringing. I try to keep my voice level and fail. Floor. Name. Stay on the line until there are people in the lobby, because hanging up means looking at her again.

They come with lights and tape. They ask the same questions they asked on Tuesday. I show them the text. I show them the unknown screen. I keep the gym photos in my phone. I tell them I came in early to work. I tell them the message sent me to thirty-seven. A woman writes it down. A man looks at my wet hair and does not ask why I showered here at four.

Marcus arrives after they do. He looks at me like I am his boss and the mess on his day.

“You found another one.”

“Yes.”

“You should have stayed home.”

“I know.”

He wants a list. Who was here last night. Who had a key. Who hated Lo enough. I give him what I have. I do not tell him about the gym. I do not show him the photos. That stays with me until I know what I am looking at.

After eight the floor fills and then thins again because tape is across thirty-seven. Aria comes in with her coat still on and the phone already at her ear. Willa sits at a desk that still has yesterday’s flowers on it. Ivy stands at the copier and does not copy anything. Kit is in the kitchen with someone else’s mug and he is not drinking. Dev has one earphone in and he is already asking which cameras were off. The answer he gets does not please him. Rafe does not come up. I stay off the gym floor. After what happened in that shower, I am not walking back in there.

A detective asks me the same three questions twice. Who found her. Why I was in the building at four. Why I went to thirty-seven instead of calling from my office. I answer them the same way twice. I found her. I could not sleep. I got a text and I walked. They tell me I can go. Stay reachable. Do not leave town. I sit in my office after they let me. The glass is at my back. Outside, the city is waking up like nothing is wrong. I do not look at my phone until I have to.

When I do look, the photos are still there.

My back. Wet. Bent over.

My cock.

The empty door.

I stare at them longer than I should. My thumb hovers over delete and does not press it. Evidence. Shame. Both. I lock the screen and put the phone face down on the desk like that will make them stop existing.

Midday I have a client across town I cannot put off. I call Shane.

“I don’t need you today,” I say. “Stay home.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

“Rhys—”

“I’m sure.”

I hang up. I take my own keys and walk the hall to the private lift on thirty-nine. I pass the glass meeting room. Marcus is still in there with a folder I do not want to see. He does not look up. I do not make him. I hit the button and wait, like the doors will open onto nothing.

The phone rings.

Unknown.