“I’ll call you tomorrow,” I said.

“Wait—”

I pressed the power button, holding it down until the screen went entirely black.

The studio plunged into absolute silence.

I dropped the phone onto the desk as if it were hot.

My breath came in quick, shallow gasps.

I walked to the window and looked down at the dark SUV at the corner.

The hazard lights stopped blinking.

The headlights flicked on.

It slowly pulled away from the curb and turned onto Congress Parkway.

They knew I was in the area.

They didn’t have the exact room number yet, but they had the block.

It was only a matter of time before Daniel’s security team started searching the buildings.

I looked around my studio.

Large canvases leaned against the brick walls, covered in heavy drop cloths.

On the easel in the center of the room sat my latest piece.

It was a stark, aggressive painting in oils.

Dark, towering figures loomed over a fractured city landscape.

The paint was still thick and wet in places.

I looked at the brush in my hand, then at the silver flash drive.