As we pulled out into the morning traffic, the city was shrouded in fog.

The skyscrapers rose up into the low clouds like giant, dark pillars.

The car ride was bumpy.

Every pothole we hit sent a sharp pain through my lower back.

I pressed my palm against my side, trying to steady myself.

Margaret noticed and reached into her bag.

“Take these,” she said, offering two white pills and a bottle of water.

“They are mild pain relievers.”

“The doctor said they would not cloud your head.”

I took them, swallowing the pills in one gulp.

The cold water helped clear the metallic taste from my mouth.

“We are five minutes away,” the driver said from the front seat.

I looked out the window at the gray sidewalks.

People were rushing to work under a sea of black umbrellas.

They had no idea of the storm brewing inside the Holloway Tower.

I looked at the small black USB drive in my hand.

It felt light, almost weightless.

Yet it held the power to destroy the Holloway name.

“The board is already gathering,” Margaret said, looking at her phone.