Clara nodded slowly, her eyes scanning the exposed pipes and the high ceiling.

“We will see,” she said.

She opened the door, letting in the cool draught from the stairwell.

Daniel didn’t move immediately.

“This isn’t over,” he said.

“I know,” I replied.

He turned on his heel and followed Clara out, slamming the heavy door behind him.

The sound echoed through the high-ceilinged room.

I stood alone in the silence of the studio.

My heart was hammering against my ribs, but my hands were steady.

I walked over to the window and watched them emerge onto the wet sidewalk below.

Daniel got into the back of his black sedan, while Clara stood on the curb for a moment.

She looked up at the building, her eyes searching the dark windows.

I stepped back into the shadows so she couldn’t see me.

She got into her own car and drove away into the Chicago drizzle.

I sat down at my wooden desk, letting out a long breath.

The flash drive sat on the table, its silver casing catching the dim light.

I knew they wouldn’t stop here.