(Jane’s POV)
The silence after the gunmen left felt even louder than the gunshots.
I was curled up under Andrew’s desk, hands over my ears. My heart was beating so hard, it hurt. I didn’t know how long I’d been hiding—maybe a few minutes, maybe longer. The air smelled like smoke and fear. Every breath I took felt sharp, like it was cutting my throat.
A chair near the door was lying on its side. One of its legs still shook like it hadn’t calmed down. Across the room, a phone was buzzing on the floor. There was blood on the screen.
Then I heard it.
Sirens.
At first, they were soft—like they were far away. But they got louder and closer fast. Then came the sound of boots—heavy, quick, stomping up the marble stairs. I heard voices through radios.
“Clear the floor! Stay alert! No mistake
