Chapter 6 - The Elevator

"Back stairs," Claire said.

"Why should I trust you?"

"You shouldn't. But Roman uses the front elevator."

That was enough.

Margaret grabbed the red folder. I took the flash drive. We moved through the copy room toward a narrow service staircase I remembered from childhood.

A fist hit the outer office door.

"Savannah!"

Roman.

My shoulders tightened at his voice, the old reflex to make everything calm. I hated it.

"Savannah, open the door. You're not thinking clearly."

Claire muttered, "He always says that when someone thinks clearly."

We reached the stairwell.

Another contraction squeezed low across my abdomen. I stopped halfway down the first flight.

"How far apart?" Margaret asked.

"I don't know."

"Start knowing."

Behind us, wood cracked.

Roman had forced the office door.

We descended faster.

On the third floor, the stairwell door opened from below. Marcus appeared.

"This way."

"You brought him here?" I asked.

"No. He followed the alarm. I came separately."

He took one look at my face. "Hospital?"

"Not yet."

"That's not your call if the baby's coming."

"It is literally my call."

Even Margaret smiled at that.

We reached the basement loading dock. Marcus had left a gray sedan beside the freight elevator.

Then the elevator doors opened.

Roman stepped out.

Snow covered the shoulders of his black coat. His face was calm, but his eyes were not.

"Enough," he said.

Marcus moved in front of me.

Roman stared at him. "Move."

"No, sir."

His gaze shifted to Claire.

"You."

Claire flinched.

Roman took a step forward. "Give me the drive."

I held it tighter.

"You mean the recordings where you discuss forging my proxy?"

"You don't understand the context."

"I understand my signature."

"Savannah, you are in labor, angry, and surrounded by people using you."

I almost admired the sentence. He managed to make himself the victim without changing his expression.

"I'm leaving," I said.

"You're coming home."

"No."

Roman reached toward me.

Marcus caught his wrist.

The shock on Roman's face lasted less than a second.

That second was enough.

I turned, climbed into the sedan, and locked the door.

As Marcus jumped behind the wheel, Roman slammed his palm against the glass.

"Savannah!"

The car pulled away.

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