Amelia locked the glass doors of Lyric Industries and tugged on the handle once, then twice, just to be sure. The click echoed louder than it should have in the quiet lobby.
She glanced at her watch. Later than she’d planned—again. The building had mostly emptied out hours ago, leaving behind that strange after-hours stillness offices always had. Not peaceful. Just empty.
She adjusted her bag on her shoulder and turned back toward the elevator.
The floor lights were dimmed, casting long reflections across the polished tiles. Her heels clicked softly as she walked, the sound following her in the open space. She told herself she was tired, that was all. Too many spreadsheets, too much coffee, not enough sleep.
Halfway across the floor, she slowed.
Something felt wrong.
Not alarming. Ju
