I tapped it, and my eyes scanned the official termination notice from Leprince Corp’s human resources department.

It was signed by Julian Leprince, the head of the oversight committee.

“Koko, are you still there?” I asked, my voice trembling but cold.

“I’m here,” Koko whispered on the other end of the line. “What happened?”

“They just sent me my official termination,” I said, staring at the cold concrete floor of the train station.

“Oh, Elila. I’m so sorry.”

“No, don’t be,” I said, tightening my grip on my phone. “This means they are rushing. They want me gone before anyone can look too closely at the security footage.”

“But what can we do?” Koko asked. “You’re locked out.”

“They locked out my account, but they didn’t wipe my physical keycard permissions from the offline security terminal yet,” I said. “The HR system takes twenty-four hours to sync with the basement server.”

“The basement server is behind the chemical storage room,” Koko said, her breath catching. “That’s restricted access.”

“The door lock is old,” I said. “It doesn’t use the digital network. It’s a mechanical keypad.”