My heart starts thudding like a clock counting down ominous seconds in a horror film. I’ve been in here longer than I’d like already. I need to get going.
I yank open another drawer and another, pawing through the contents as quickly as I can, skimming for anything else that might help. Taking quick photos of the other apparently involved parties.
I’m about to call it a day when my finger flicks over a photograph that pierces into my soul.
It’s my dad. A little younger, no gray showing in his tawny hair yet, smiling broadly at someone off camera.
My head whirls. I have to grip the drawer to keep my balance.
No. It doesn’t make sense. Why would he?—?
I knew I might see him too, even if I didn’t want to admit it. It’s much more plausible that Ms. Lupul has ties to this group than that she’s somehow operating against them out of the same building.
From the number of files here, it’s impossible to say how many schemes these people have in motion. IknowDad has no idea he’s associated with anyone who’d want to hurt me… so what are they doing with him?
There’s no way to find out for sure right now. All I can do is take as many pictures as my trembling hand will allow, shuffling through the caddy that holds a tale I can’t decipher.
Just as I’ve gotten halfway through the cards, the distant thump of a door shutting reaches my ears.
I freeze again, straining to hear past the booming of my pulse.
Footsteps tap down the stairs beyond this room’s door.
Shit. I’m screwed.
I snatch a couple of Dad’s cards and stuff them into my purse before shoving the caddy back into the drawer and the drawer closed.
A panicked glance around the room shows no ideal hiding place. I have to make do with the best I have.
I dash across the room, dive under one of the desks, and press myself against the wall beneath it. A tap of my phone plunges the room into total darkness again.
With a yank of ephemera, I wrap myself in a shell I hope will deflect any curious gazes.
The door opens. With a click, artificial light beams down from the ceiling.
Feet clad in elegant pumps stride into view, loose dress pants swishing around the slim legs above. I can’t see more than that.
The figure swivels as if taking in the whole room. She pauses facing the table I’m huddled under. “There you are. Let’s see who we’ve got.”
Even as she speaks, a surge of magical energy whips around me and yanks me forward.
I lash out with my own gathered ephemera, but the heave already has me tumbling into the light with a pained gasp.More magic clamps around my wrists and ankles, pinning them to the tiled floor.
A woman I’ve never seen before—tall, slim, blond, and somewhere around middle-aged—peers down at me. Her pale eyes glimmer with recognition.
“You,” she snarls. “How did you— Never mind. This is perfect. I can deal with the problem right here.”
I open my mouth to protest, to make an appeal, but more ephemera slaps against my lips and nostrils. My breath snuffs out.
I squirm against the restraints, my pulse lurching.
An ache spreads through my chest. My lungs pang for air.
The woman gazes down at me with a perfectly self-satisfied expression. As if she’s nothing but delighted to watch my torment.
The realization sweeps through me like a cutting winter gale.
“Deal with the problem.”The problem of me still being alive, she meant.
