The elevator ride felt endless. The lights above him flickered softly, reflecting against the polished metal walls and the faint sheen of sweat on his collar. Trevor's reflection stared back, pale and unfocused, the tie at his throat uneven, the top button of his shirt still undone. He didn't remember leaving his office. He only remembered Windstone's voice, quiet and strained, too gentle to belong in this world, and the words that had taken the air out of his lungs.
The city waited beyond the glass doors. The sound of engines and rain against pavement blended into a steady rhythm that barely reached him. The car was already waiting, sleek and black, its windows glinting with pale light. He opened the door without thinking, slid into the back seat, and shut it behind him.
