Chapter Forty-Seven
I sprint to the elevator as though chased by a team of zombie IRS agents.
The elevator seems to take a thousand frantic heartbeats to get to me, and when I get inside, I stab the ground floor button hard enough to hurt my finger, then bite my nails all the way up.
The doors open.
Nero isn’t there.
Phew.
I sprint out of the elevator and through the lobby.
My coworkers give me confused looks, but no one stops me.
I bump into a woman as I exit the door. She looks familiar, but I pass her too quickly to register where I might know her from.
Spotting an empty yellow cab, I jump in front of it and frantically wave my arms.
The driver stops, rolls down his window, and yells something unintelligible about my sanity.
“I’ll give you two hundred dollars to get me to Bro
