The brass arrow above the center elevator lit up, and a soft chime rang through the empty lobby.

I stepped inside the car and pressed the button for the penthouse floor.

The doors slid shut, sealing me in with the smell of polished brass and carpet cleaner.

As the elevator rose, I watched the digital floor counter tick upward.

Twenty. Twenty-five. Thirty.

My reflection in the mirrored back wall looked tired but steady.

I pulled my wool coat tighter around my shoulders.

The elevator stopped on the fortieth floor with another soft chime.

The doors slid open to reveal the quiet, dimly lit reception area of the executive suite.

The receptionist’s desk was empty, a single monitor displaying a rotating corporate logo.

I walked past the glass partitions, my heels making no sound on the thick wool carpet.

A soft light was shining from the glass-walled office at the end of the hall.

I walked toward it, my hand resting inside my coat pocket where my phone lay.

Through the glass, I saw Bianca sitting at her desk.