A Quiet Departure From the Shadows of a Chicago Empire
I stood still for a moment, letting my eyes adjust to the gloom.
A single bulb flickered at the far end of the corridor, near a flight of wooden stairs.
I began to walk toward the stairs, my hand sliding along the cold plaster wall.
Every step felt heavy, my body tired from the stress and the cold.
I reached the bottom of the stairs and looked up.
The light from the second floor cast long shadows down the wooden steps.
I began to climb, my heart hammering against my ribs.
With every step, I felt the reality of what I was doing.
I was no longer running.
I was walking directly into the center of the storm.
I reached the top landing and saw a door standing slightly ajar.
A warm light spilled out onto the floor, along with the sound of a keyboard clicking.
I pushed the door open slowly, the hinges silent.
Sophia was sitting behind a metal desk, her laptop open in front of her.
She did not look up immediately, her fingers moving quickly across the keys.