Eighty percent.

The footsteps stopped right outside the door.

The doorknob jiggled.

I held my breath.

“Who’s in there?” a voice called out from the hallway. It was Marcus, one of the night security guards.

“It’s just me, Marcus,” Bernadette called back, keeping her voice calm. “I’m checking the inventory logs for the morning shift.”

“The lights are off in there, Bernadette,” Marcus said.

“I’m trying to save my eyes from the glare,” she replied. “Give me five minutes.”

“Alright,” Marcus said. “Just lock up when you’re done.”

The footsteps began to fade down the corridor.

The screen flashed: *Transfer Complete*.

I clicked the eject button, waited for the prompt, and pulled the USB drive from the slot.

I shut down the computer screen, leaving the room in darkness once more.

“Let’s go,” I said.

We slipped out of the records office and walked quickly toward the service elevator.

My heart did not stop racing until I reached the parking garage.

***

The drive to Brookline was quiet, the streets of Boston wet from a midnight drizzle.

I arrived at Daniel’s house just after one in the morning.