THE LAST CHECK IN

CHAPTER 2 - Atlas

Atlas looked like a place built to convince you that nothing bad could happen inside it.

Glass façade. Uniformed doorman. Fresh flowers in the lobby like someone was trying to bribe the world into calm. The air smelled like money and lemon polish.

Naina walked in with her hood down and her shoulders squared, trying to look like she belonged.

A guard glanced at her, then at his tablet.

“Can I help you, ma’am?”

“I’m here for Meera Sen,” Naina said. “She lives here.”

The guard smiled politely in the way people smile when they’re about to say no.

“Residents’ privacy is strict,” he said. “You can leave a message with the concierge.”

Naina kept her voice steady. “She sent me a voice note this morning. It cut off. Her phone is off. She has a last check‑in here and another one in Nashville eleven minutes later.”

The guard’s smile didn’t change.

“That would be an issue for the police,” he said.

Naina swallowed. “Then call them.”

The guard’s eyes flicked to her phone in her hand, then back up. “You can call them, ma’am.”

Naina forced herself not to argue in circles.

She did the only thing she could do: she made it inconvenient to ignore her.

“I’ll wait here,” she said. “In the lobby. Until someone explains how her check‑in happens in two places.”

The guard hesitated, then picked up his radio.

“Concierge,” he said. “We have a… situation.”

Naina stood near the flower arrangement and stared at the security cameras.

There were three she could see from this angle. Probably more she couldn’t.

Atlas was watching her.

Good.

Let them.

A woman in a fitted blazer approached, smile bright enough to be a weapon.

“Hi,” she said warmly. “I’m Sienna, building manager. How can I help?”

Naina met her gaze. “Meera Sen is missing.”

Sienna’s smile faltered for half a second—tiny, practiced recovery.

“I’m sure there’s a misunderstanding,” she said.

“Her phone is off,” Naina replied. “Her last check‑in was here at 11:58. Then Nashville at 12:09. She sent me a warning voice note. I want footage from last night.”

Sienna’s tone stayed pleasant. “We can’t release footage without a formal request.”

Naina nodded once. “Great. I’m filing one. Now. And I’m calling the police. Now.”

Sienna’s smile tightened. “Of course. Please don’t cause a scene.”

Naina’s voice went quiet. “I’m not the one who did something to her.”

Sienna blinked. “Excuse me?”

Naina leaned in slightly. “Tell your security team I’m not leaving. And tell whoever you’re protecting that Meera left me a trail.”

Sienna’s eyes flicked to the cameras again, then back to Naina.

“Let’s speak privately,” she said.

Naina’s stomach tightened.

Private conversations were where threats got teeth.

But she needed information.

So she followed.