I walked out of the office and down the quiet hallway to the elevator.

The building was empty now, the security guard at the desk downstairs nodding to me as I passed.

I stepped out into the cool, damp night air.

The smell of salt and wet asphalt filled my nose.

I drove back to my small rented cottage along the winding coastal road.

The headlights cut through the thick fog rolling in from the ocean.

When I got home, the house was quiet.

My babysitter, Sarah, was asleep on the couch with a textbook on her lap.

I woke her gently, paid her, and watched her drive away.

Then I walked down the hall to the kids’ bedroom.

Lily was curled up with her favorite stuffed rabbit, her breathing slow and steady.

Ethan had kicked his blankets off, as usual.

I pulled the covers back up to his shoulders and kissed his forehead.

They were safe here, far away from the corporate greed and lies of the city.

I went into the kitchen and poured myself a glass of water.