I stepped out of the elevator and sat in the waiting area outside Chase's office. The chairs were stiff leather, cold against my back. I leaned forward, elbows on my knees, staring at the floor. A few patients sat scattered around—middle-aged woman flipping through a magazine, older guy checking his watch, young guy scrolling his phone. None of them looked up when I sat down.
A few minutes later, Chase's door opened. The next patients stood up, smoothing their clothes, ready to go in.
I stood up slowly. No one paid attention to me. I walked to the door, pushed it open, and stepped inside. The patient behind me started to protest, "Hey, that's my—" but I shut the door firmly in his face, turning the lock with a soft click.
Chase was already back at his desk, sitting down, looking up at me with mild confusion. "Mr. Marlowe? What's going on?"
I didn't say a word.
I triggered Time Stop.
