“The main entrance has metal detectors,” I said.

“And the catering entrance?” Arthur asked.

“It’s in the back, off Fifth Avenue,” I said. “They use temporary badges.”

I began to detail the shift changes of the guards.

Arthur listened in silence, nodding occasionally as I spoke.

The only sound in the office was my voice and the rain outside.

Suddenly, a sharp, buzzing sound cut through the quiet.

My phone, sitting on the edge of the desk, began to vibrate.

The screen lit up with an unknown number.

I reached for it, but Arthur’s hand clamped down over my wrist.

“Don’t answer it yet,” he said.

The phone kept vibrating, sliding slightly on the polished wood.

A text message preview popped up on the lock screen.

My breath caught in my throat.

It was a photo of the front door of my apartment building.

Underneath the image, a message appeared: *I know where you are, Kate.*

Arthur’s hand was heavy and warm.

My skin went numb under his fingers.

The screen of my phone dimmed, then went completely black.

“Is it Tristan?” I whispered.