She was holding her phone in her right hand, the screen glowing brightly against her skin.

She did not see Adrian standing in the darkness behind the door.

She only saw me standing in the middle of the ruined room.

“Claire,” she gasped.

She took a step forward, her knees visibly trembling.

“Please,” she sobbed, lifting her free hand. “You have to help me.”

She looked absolutely terrified, her eyes wide and bloodshot.

“Grant is going to kill me,” she whispered.

She clutched her phone tighter against her chest.

“I have things,” she said, her voice shaking violently. “I have recordings of his phone calls.”

She took another step into the room, her gaze darting frantically over the broken glass.

“I know where his first apartment is,” she said. “The one he kept secret from everyone.”

She looked directly into my eyes, her face pale under the yellow lamp.

“But you have to promise me,” she cried. “You have to get me immunity from the police.”

Before I could answer her, a soft chime rang out from her phone.