Page 186 of Their Arrangement
He’d find it. And he’d know I chose him. Chose all of them. Even if they never forgave me. Even if I never forgave myself. I didn’t save myself. I just stopped running.
27
WOLFE
The feed glitched.
Just for a second.
A flicker. A shadow. Barely a movement on the second angle—hallway cam, Cloe’s floor.
But I saw it.
A shape. Close to her door. Closer than anyone had a right to be.
The elevator button blinked once. Then went dark. Out of service.
“What the fuck—” I slammed the call button.
No response. No hum. No flicker.
Just silence.
I didn’t wait.
Didn’t think.
Didn’t breathe.
I hit the stairwell door with my shoulder and launched upward—two steps, three at a time. My hand scraped along the metal railing as I climbed, faster than my body could keep up with.
My lungs burned. But it wasn’t the stairs. It washer. Something was wrong.
That feeling… the one I’d learned to trust in war zones and interrogation rooms. The one that whisperedtoo quiet,too still, too late.
Each floor I passed dragged a blade through my chest.
Second.
Third.
Fourth.
Run.
Fifth.
Faster.
Sixth.
My heart was already a war drum. The kind that only beats when something you love is about to be stolen.
Seventh.
Her floor.
I hit the landing hard—feet barely catching grip on the tile. My eyes snapped to her door. Still closed. But the frame? Splintered. Fresh wood. Shards near the lock. Someone had forced it. My blood turned to ice. Then fire.
