Chapter 2 - The Woman in the Hall
The elevators rose at the same time.
Emily could hear them through the floor before she saw the numbers moving above the lobby doors.
Victor’s two guards did not look at Sarah.
They looked at him.
That told Emily everything she needed to know about the balance of power in the room.
Victor kept his body between Emily and the open office door.
“Sarah,” he said.
Her mother’s name sounded rough in his mouth.
Sarah Vale stepped inside wearing a gray building-maintenance uniform and white rubber-soled shoes.
Her dark hair, once long in Emily’s childhood videos, was cut to her jaw and threaded with silver.
There was a faint scar near her left eyebrow.
Emily remembered tracing that same place on an old photograph and believing the mark was a scratch on the film.
For seventeen years she had pictured a cemetery whenever she thought of her mother.
Now Sarah was six feet away.
Emily tried to speak.
Only air came out.
Sarah finally looked at her.
Her face softened, but she did not move closer.
“Hi, Em.”
The nickname broke something.
Emily shoved past Victor.
“You’re dead.”
Sarah flinched.
“No.”
“You’re dead.”
“I know what you were told.”
Emily’s hand flew before she decided to raise it.
The slap cracked across the office.
No one moved.
Sarah’s head turned with the impact.
She closed her eyes for half a second, then faced Emily again.
“That was fair.”
“Don’t say that like you get to grade my reaction.”
The elevator display chimed.
42.
Victor’s head snapped toward the lobby.
“Conversation later.”
Sarah looked at the numbers above the doors.
“No. Conversation now. Later is exactly how we got here.”
Victor grabbed the black file from the desk.
“Who’s in the elevators?”
Sarah’s jaw tightened.
“I don’t know.”
“That means you lost control.”
“I never had control.”
Victor gave her a flat look.
“That would be more convincing if you hadn’t just taken over my building.”
A soft mechanical sound came from the hallway.
Click.
The lights above the west elevator died.
Then the east.
The guard nearest the door whispered, “Manual override.”
Sarah’s face changed.
For the first time, Emily saw genuine alarm.
“Not mine.”
Victor opened the hidden compartment under his desk and pressed a recessed switch.
A panel beside the bookcase released with a quiet hiss.
Behind it was a narrow concrete passage lit by red emergency lamps.
Emily stared.
“You have a secret hallway in your office?”
Victor gestured toward it.
“I have several problems in my office. The hallway is the useful one.”
The first elevator doors began to open.
Victor’s guards took positions.
Sarah caught Emily’s wrist.
This time Emily did not pull away.
“Move.”
They entered the passage.
Victor came last, pressed another switch, and the panel closed behind them.
A second later, dull impacts sounded from the office.
Not gunshots.
Heavy bodies hitting furniture.
One of Victor’s guards cursed through the wall.
Then silence.
Emily stopped.
“We left them.”
Victor kept walking.
“They chose their job.”
“You say that like it makes it fine.”
“It makes it a decision they understood.”
Sarah snapped, “This is why she hates you already.”
Victor did not turn around.
“She’s known me for forty-five minutes.”
“I’ve worked here three years,” Emily said.
Victor glanced back.
“You’ve known my name for three years.”
The corridor sloped downward.
Pipes hummed behind the walls.
Emily’s badge tapped against her chest with each step, an irritating little plastic knock that suddenly seemed too loud.
Sarah noticed it.
“Take that off.”
Emily looked at the badge.
“Why?”
“Because Daniel can track it.”
Victor stopped.
“No.”
Sarah met his stare.
“He can.”
“You told me the badge system was isolated.”
“It was.”
“Was?”
Sarah’s mouth tightened.
Emily yanked the lanyard over her head.
“Can someone explain why my supposedly dead brother can track my office badge?”
Neither answered.
Emily threw the badge at Victor.
He caught it.
“Start talking.”
A vibration pulsed through the corridor.
The elevators above them were moving again.
Victor looked at Sarah.
“Where’s Daniel?”
“If I knew, I would not have used the intercom.”
Emily laughed once, sharp and humorless.
“Oh, good. So this is a family reunion where nobody knows where anybody is.”
Sarah’s eyes filled, but she blinked it away.
“Daniel called you because he needs something.”
“The truth?”
“No.”
Sarah’s answer came too quickly.
“He needs access.”
“To what?”
Sarah looked at the employee badge in Victor’s hand.
“That.”
Victor turned the plastic card over.
It looked ordinary.
Emily’s photo.
Her name.
A blue stripe identifying her as Corporate Risk Analytics.
Victor ran his thumb across the lower edge and stopped.
There was a tiny seam in the plastic.
He used his thumbnail to pry it open.
Inside the badge was a wafer-thin black chip that did not belong there.
Emily stared.
“I’ve had that badge for three years.”
Sarah whispered, “Exactly.”
Victor’s eyes moved to her.
“You put this on her?”
“I put it near her.”
“That is not the same sentence.”
“It had to enter the building without being scanned as a separate device.”
Emily looked between them.
“You used me as a courier.”
Sarah did not deny it.
Another click sounded in the corridor.
This one came from behind them.
Victor’s face went still.
The hidden office panel had opened.
Footsteps entered the passage.
Slow.
Unhurried.
Sarah whispered, “They found it too fast.”
Victor put the chip in his inside jacket pocket and drew a small pistol from an ankle holster.
Emily stared at him.
“You keep that in a board meeting?”
“Only on Thursdays.”
“It’s Friday.”
“Then we are having a bad week.”
He led them faster down the corridor.
At the bottom was a steel door with no handle, only a keypad.
Victor entered six digits.
Red light.
He tried again.
Red.
Sarah stepped forward.
“They changed it.”
“Who is they?” Emily demanded.
A man’s voice answered from the darkness behind them.
“People who got tired of Victor deciding who was allowed to know the family history.”
Emily’s skin prickled.
Daniel.
She turned.
A silhouette stood thirty feet up the corridor.
Victor raised the pistol.
Sarah moved between them.
“No.”
Daniel stepped into the red emergency light.
He was older than the boy Emily remembered, his face leaner, his hair cut close, but the crooked line of his smile was exactly the same.
Emily forgot the corridor.
Forgot Victor.
Forgot the gun.
“Daniel?”
His eyes met hers.
“Hey, kid.”
Her knees weakened.
Then Daniel looked at the badge chip bulging in Victor’s pocket.
His smile disappeared.
“Give me the key.”
Emily’s breath stopped.
Not hello.
Not I missed you.
Not I’m sorry.
The key.
Sarah closed her eyes.
“Daniel, don’t.”
He raised his own gun.
Victor did not move.
Daniel’s voice became very quiet.
“Emily, ask Mom why your employee badge was made before you were hired.”
Emily turned toward Sarah.
Sarah went pale.
Behind them, the steel door unlocked by itself.
May you like
Click.
And a voice from the other side said, “Bring Emily in alone.”
