Upstairs, a heavy thud sounded from the hallway above our heads.

It sounded like the front doors of the building being forced open.

“They’re here,” Mallerie whispered, a triumphant smile appearing on her wet face.

“The inspectors.”

“That’s not the inspectors,” Carl said.

The sound of heavy, rapid footsteps echoed down the concrete stairs.

A flashlight beam cut through the thick steam near the entrance.

“Who’s down there?” a loud voice called out from the stairs.

Mallerie grabbed her purse from the floor and backed toward the rear exit door.

She looked at Carl, then at Derek, her face a mask of desperation.

“You can’t prove anything,” she said.

She pushed open the heavy metal door that led to the alleyway.

The cold night air rushed into the basement, turning the steam into thick, white clouds.

She disappeared into the dark alley.

“The gas valve!” Carl yelled, running past the boiler.

The heat near the machine was intense now.

The floor was covered in a thin sheet of scalding water.

I grabbed Derek by the shoulder and pulled him toward the stairs.