FIFTY-FIVE
It was late Sunday night – after eleven o’clock – when Joey got to the office. He punched in his security code at the guard station to call an elevator, then ascended to the floor where his office was located. In the darkness, the hallway to his office seemed particularly long and narrow, with recess lighting that cast grotesque shadows along the way.
Just as he entered the hallway, he heard a sound. He was unable to discern exactly what it was, but it sounded like footsteps on carpet moving in the opposite direction. He squinted in the dimness but was unable to make out anything. Then he zeroed in on a light spilling from an open doorway at the far end of the hall. He knew without counting doors that it was his office.
He froze in place. Surely his imagination was working ov
