“We need to talk about Elena.”

“And we need to talk about what she left behind.”

My throat felt dry, like sand.

I looked at the locked glass doors, then at the elevator bank.

The silver doors of the elevator reflected our shapes like a distorted mirror.

“I should take Ruby home,” I said, panic rising in my chest.

“No,” Nathaniel said gently, but firmly.

“Please, Claire.”

“I have been looking for you for twelve years.”

The security guard spoke into his desk phone, his voice a low, urgent murmur.

The elevator chimed, the sound sharp and clear in the quiet lobby.

The doors slid open, revealing a wall of warm, glowing light from inside the wood-paneled car.

“Come upstairs,” Nathaniel said.

He gestured toward the open elevator.

I looked down at Ruby, who was watching me with wide, trusting eyes.

She was shivering slightly from the draft near the entrance.

I nodded slowly, my hand trembling as I led her forward.

We walked toward the elevator, our boots squeaking on the clean floor.

As the doors began to close, the security guard called out.