At the time, those things felt strange but not alarming. Now they lined up perfectly, following into place like pieces of a puzzle I had not known I was solving.
The lobby camera shifted angles and caught Bronson turning toward Lydia, touching her elbow gently as if calming her. The gesture would have looked caring to anyone else, but I knew better. That touch had purpose. Manipulators always cloak control in gentleness.
I studied his face carefully. His jaw was tight. His eyes kept flicking toward the elevator bank.
Whatever he had been planning today was supposed to be his victory lap. He thought he had outsmarted me. He thought he had laid the perfect trail and that I would crumble under the pressure.
I took another sip of the cold coffee and let the bitterness settle on my two tongue. There was something almost poetic about watching them stand there in my lick building, waiting to take away the home that had become my lifeline.
