Matthew flipped up his collar, shook his head, and turned back to the door that he’d left propped open behind him. The doors were all glass. The windows were glass. Glass, glass, everywhere glass. He’d often figured it was there for security more than just an effort to soften the rest of the cold concrete building. After all, it was easy to see through; nothing could hide behind a glass door. It was also reflective.
So when he saw a face—a smirk, bright eyes, sharp cheekbones—shining back at him, Matthew startled. He whirled back to face the balcony.
There was no one there. Just the stars and bats above him, and the trees, manicured lawn, and fading gardens below him.
He shook his head and grabbed the handle of the door. It was time to cut back on the coffee. The caffeine was making him
