“The rat is looking for a lifeboat,” she said.

Before I could answer, a shadow moved near the pillar by my car.

The headlights of a car turning into the garage flashed across the concrete.

In the sudden glare, a figure stepped out from behind the pillar.

My heart stopped.

It wasn’t Harrison.

It was a man in a dark suit, holding a thick, manila envelope.

He took two quick steps toward us, his hand reaching into his jacket.

“Claire Vance?” he called out.

Elena immediately stepped in front of me, her hand reaching into her bag.

“Who are you?” Elena demanded, her voice echoing in the empty garage.

The man stopped, pulling his hand out of his jacket to reveal a silver badge.

“Process server,” he said, his voice flat.

“You’ve just been served.”

He held out the envelope, but he wasn’t looking at me.

He was looking past me, toward the elevator we had just exited.

The elevator doors were still open.

Inside, the light was flickering.

The man’s eyes widened slightly as he looked at the screen of his own phone, which had just begun to chime with a rapid series of emergency alerts.