Liam switched off the flashlight, plunging us into absolute blackness.

I held my breath, listening.

The sound of footsteps ascended the stairs from two flights down.

They were slow, deliberate steps.

The soles of the shoes clicked sharply against the concrete.

“Is that security?” I whispered.

“Security wears rubber-soled boots,” Liam whispered back. “Those are hard dress shoes.”

Darrow let out a low, whimpering sound.

Liam reached out and pressed his hand over Darrow’s mouth.

“Keep quiet,” Liam hissed in the dark.

The footsteps stopped.

For a long moment, there was only the sound of our own breathing.

Then, a faint yellow glow appeared on the concrete wall below us.

Someone was using a phone screen for light.

The light bounced off the walls, growing brighter as the person came closer.

I pulled myself against the wall, my heart hammering against my chest.

I thought of the charity fire, the smoke filling my lungs, the heat of the flames.

I couldn’t go back into the dark.

The yellow light reached the landing below us.

A figure emerged from the stairwell.