Sadie.
The phone call. The glass breaking. The screaming. Her voice cutting out mid-sentence.
My chest tightened so hard that I struggled to draw breath for a second. I pressed my fist against my chest without thinking, as if the act would push the feelings back down.
“I need someone to stay behind,” the director said. He looked at me, then at Sloane, then back at me. “Secure the building. Make sure the animals are stable. Check the filtration systems and the backup generators. Then you leave.You lock everything down and you get out.”
“I’ll stay,” I said immediately.
Of course I would. This place was my responsibility. These animals were my responsibility. And the faster I finished, the faster I could get to Sadie.
If there was still something to get to.
I killed that thought before it finished.
Before the director responded, Sloane spoke.
“I’ll stay, too.”
I looked at her.
She met my eyes. Steady. No wavering. But underneath it—the tightness in her face, the tension running through her jaw, the way she was holding herself very still because if she didn’t, she might break.
She was scared. She was scared, and she was staying anyway.
“That way we can both get home faster,” she said.
Home, the way she said it—quiet, careful, like the word itself was fragile—made me wonder if she was thinking the same thing I was. About whoever was waiting for her on the other side of this. Or wasn’t.
The director nodded. Quick. Relieved in a way that made me feel worse, because it meant he understood how bad this was and he wanted out of this building as fast as possible.
“Good. Do it fast.”
Jason looked between us, his face pale, his eyes too wide.
“What about me?” he asked. His voice cracked on the last word.
“Go home, Jason,” I said.
He didn’t argue. He didn’t say goodbye. He just turned and left, his footsteps quickening down the hallwayuntil I heard the stairwell door bang open and slam shut behind him.
The director gathered his keys, his phone, and a jacket from the back of his chair. He stopped at the door and looked at us one more time. He opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something—important, or reassuring—but nothing came out. He just nodded. Then he was gone.
The office fell silent.
The sirens outside kept going. Muffled through the walls, but constant. Relentless.
It was just the two of us now.
Me and Sloane.
Standing in a quiet room while the world outside tore itself apart.
Eight
Sloane
No time for hesitation.