I approached the turnstiles, my hand resting on my badge.

One of the guards looked up as I approached.

“Morning, Clara,” he said, his voice flat.

“Good morning, Jerry,” I replied, forcing a polite, tired smile. “Early day today.”

“Yeah, they’ve got the whole place on high alert after last night,” he muttered, waving me through.

The turnstile clicked, and I pushed through the metal bars.

I walked toward the bank of elevators, my heart beating hard against my ribs.

I pressed the button for the thirty-fourth floor.

The elevator doors opened, and I stepped inside.

As the doors began to slide shut, a hand suddenly blocked the sensor.

The doors slid back open.

Marcus Reed stepped into the elevator, his phone pressed to his ear.

He looked at me, his eyes narrowing slightly as the doors closed behind him.

He did not say a word to me, but he continued his conversation in a low, tense voice.

“I don’t care what his lawyer says,” Marcus muttered into the phone. “Keep him in that room until the vote is finalized.”