GREEN STATUS

LEVEL B2

9pm:Parking garage. Level B2.

Elma’s hands were sweaty against the strap of her PM.bag. The elevator doors slid open with a groan that echoed too loud in the empty space. Cold air hit her face, carrying the smell of oil, concrete, and something metallic that made her stomach turn.

She told herself it was stupid to come. That Linda would have said it was stupid. That even Nathan would tell her not to meet strangers in parking garages at night.

But the email had her name. It knew she worked late. It knew she was on floor 12. If someone wanted her gone, she needed to know who before they made the next move.

The fluorescent lights overhead flickered once, twice, then settled into a weak yellow glow. Shadows stretched long across the concrete floor. Only three cars sat in the whole section. Her footsteps echoed. Each one sounded like a warning.

Meet me at the parking garage. Level B2. Come alone.

No name. No number. Just an order.

Elma kept her hand close to her bag. Inside was nothing but her phone and the photo of her parents. But it felt like something, at least.

She reached the center of the floor and stopped.

A figure stepped out from behind a concrete pillar. Tall. Broad shoulders. A suit that still looked expensive even at this hour.

Joseph.

Elma’s blood went cold. Her chest tightened so fast she almost couldn’t breathe.

Of course it was him. Who else would bother chasing her down here? Who else had the time and the hatred to make sure she never got a second chance?

Joseph stopped ten feet away. He didn’t look angry. That was worse. He looked amused. Like this was a game he’d already won.

I told you to stay away, Joseph said, his voice low and smooth, like he was talking to a dog that wouldn’t stop barking. You don’t listen, do you?

Elma forced herself to stand taller. Her legs shook, but she locked her knees. What do you want, Joseph?

What I always wanted, he said, taking a slow step forward. You gone. Out of this city. Out of Hayes Corp. Out of my life.

You sent that email, Elma said. You’ve been trying to ruin me since you lied to Aunt Marian.

Joseph smiled. It wasn’t a real smile. It was the kind of smile people used right before they struck.

Lies work, Elma. Look at you. Homeless. Jobless. Now working a dead-end job in the corner of my company.

The words hit like a slap, but Elma didn’t flinch. Not this time. She’d heard worse in the last week.

I’m not quitting, she said.

You will, Joseph said, and now he was close enough that she could see the cold in his eyes. Because if you don’t, I’ll make sure everyone knows what you really are. A thief. A seductress. A girl who ruins families.

Elma’s hands clenched into fists at her sides. Her nails bit into her palms. She thought about the night he grabbed her wrist. About the way he’d walked into her room without knocking. About the lie he told that tore her life apart.

You’re the one who tried to touch me that night, she said, voice shaking but clear. I have nothing to be ashamed of.

Joseph laughed. It echoed off the concrete walls.

And who’s going to believe you? he said. The orphan against the man who runs a department at Hayes Corp? The girl with no family against the man who signs the checks?

Elma opened her mouth to answer, but nothing came out. Because he was right. In this city, in this company, his word meant more than hers. It always had.

Before she could think of a response, headlights cut through the garage. Bright, sharp, blinding.

Both of them turned.

Nathan’s black SUV rolled to a stop a few feet away. The engine cut off. The driver’s door opened.

Nathan stepped out. He was still in his doctor’s coat, white against the dark, and his face was hard in a way Elma had never seen before.

Joseph, Nathan said. Step away from her. Now.

Joseph straightened, surprised but not scared. If anything, he looked entertained.

Nathan, Joseph said, spreading his hands like they were old friends. Didn’t know you were into charity cases.

I’m into the truth, Nathan said. And I know what you did.

Joseph’s smile faltered for half a second. Watch your mouth, boy. I can bury you too.

Try it, Nathan said, and his voice was flat, final. Elma, get in the car.

Elma hesitated. Her eyes flicked between Nathan and Joseph. If she ran to Nathan, it would look like she needed saving. If she stayed, Joseph might actually do something stupid.

Nathan didn’t wait. He opened the passenger door and held it for her.

Get in, Elma, he said quietly. Now.

Something in his tone made her move. She walked past Joseph without looking at him, heart pounding, and slid into the seat. The door shut behind her with a solid thud.