Rain had begun to pelt against the glass, leaving long, distorted streaks.

“Nathan,” Mr. Hayes said, not turning around.

“Give me a moment with Emily.”

Nathan frowned, looking from the attorney to me.

“Why?” Nathan asked.

“Please,” Mr. Hayes said. “Just a moment. I need to explain something to her.”

Nathan hesitated, then looked at me.

I nodded to him, signaling that it was alright.

“I’ll wait right outside the door,” Nathan said.

He squeezed my shoulder gently and stepped out of the boardroom.

The heavy door clicked shut behind him.

The room was completely quiet now, save for the faint hum of the air conditioning.

Mr. Hayes turned around slowly.

His eyes were bloodshot, and he looked much older than his sixty years.

He walked over to where I sat and stopped a few feet away.

He reached into his trousers pocket and pulled out a small, metallic object.

It was a sleek, black keycard with no markings on it.

He did not hand it to me immediately.

He held it between his thumb and forefinger, his knuckles white.