“Yes,” I said.

“Is he alone?”

“He was when I left him a minute ago,” I said.

Behind the agent, the glass doors of the lobby rattled as a gust of wind swept off Wabash Avenue.

Outside, the sirens were much closer now, their high-pitched wails bouncing off the concrete under the elevated train tracks.

Two more dark sedans pulled up to the curb, parking illegally on the sidewalk.

Men and women in dark windbreakers with yellow lettering got out of the vehicles.

My phone vibrated in my hand.

I looked down at the screen.

It was an alert from a major financial news network.

*BREAKING: Federal prosecutors launch immediate probe into Hayes Enterprises following leaked audio.*

Below the headline, a sub-headline caught my eye.

*Stock of Chicago-based conglomerate tumbles twenty percent in pre-market trading.*

Agent Miller looked at my phone, then back at my face.

“You should step outside, Ms. Carter,” he said.

He used my maiden name.

He knew exactly who I was.

“I have my car nearby,” I said.

“Do not leave the city,” Miller said. “We will need to speak with you formalizing your statement later today.”