The fear arrived late.
Not during the confrontation. Not when Michael’s voice had cut through the reception area like a thrown blade. Not even when security had closed the doors behind him and the office had resumed its careful breathing.
It came later, when Alicia was alone.
She stood in her apartment with the lights low, jacket still on, bag resting exactly where it belonged. The city beyond the windows glowed in orderly grids, traffic threading its way through the streets like data through a system, predictable, contained, obedient to rules.
She set her keys down.
Aligned them.
And then her hands stopped moving.
That was when she felt it.
Not panic. Not dread.
Memory.
Her body remembered before her mind allowed itself to catch up, the old tightening in her chest, the instincti
