We waited by the heavy wooden door of the loft.

The elevator groaned as it ascended the old shaft.

The metal gate scraped open down the hall.

Footsteps approached, quick and uneven.

A knock sounded on the door.

Jonathan turned the lock and pulled the door open.

Rebecca stood there, her face pale, her eyes wide with fear.

She was holding a small, silver flash drive tightly in her gloved hand.

But before she could step inside, her phone began to ring.

It was a loud, shrill sound in the quiet hallway.

She looked down at the screen, and her face went completely white.

“It’s Harrison,” she whispered.

At that exact moment, the headlights of another car washed across the studio windows from the street below.

Jonathan grabbed Rebecca’s arm and pulled her inside the loft.

He slammed the heavy wooden door shut and threw the deadbolt.

The metallic click sounded like a gunshot in the quiet room.

Rebecca’s phone continued to buzz in her hand, the screen casting a cold blue glow over her pale face.

“Turn it off,” Jonathan whispered.