~SCARLETT.
My pulse quickened as I pressed against the wall, barely breathing. Shadows flickered beyond the archway.
Slow footsteps echoed, each one louder than the last, tightening the knot of dread in my chest.
I clenched my fists, willing myself to stay silent.
The silhouette of the short man appeared at the entrance, his gaze scanning the corridor like a predator hunting prey. My heart pounded so violently I was sure he could hear it.
Pausing, his head tilted as if sensing something—me.
"Mark?" A familiar voice called softly from behind him.
He didn't answer right away.
"I'm sure it's nothing," the voice insisted. "Probably just couples playing around."
"At this hour?"
"You know how it is," she replied smoothly. "They get creative at night."
The air felt suffocating.
Please
