The carpet on the eighth floor was so thick it swallowed every single step Clara took.
The hotel corridor was lined with soft warm lights and dark wooden doors, giving off a quiet, expensive feeling. But Clara’s heart was hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird. She kept one hand casually near her ear, using her long dark hair to hide the small plastic earbud Marcus had given her before she left the car.
"I'm at the door," Clara whispered under her breath, turning her face slightly toward the wall so no one walking by would notice her mouth moving.
"Good. Room 804, right?" Marcus’s voice came through the earpiece, slightly static but clear enough to understand. "The floor cameras are on a fifteen-second loop right now. You have a clean window to open the lock."
Clara pulled a pl
