"They cut me off."
Elmira said it while wiping down the stainless-steel counter of a sterile, anonymous kitchen. The fluorescent light hummed, punctuating the sentence.
Chloe, the woman whose spare room she was borrowing for the night, looked up from her laptop. "What? Why? The Holmes scholarship was your lifeline!"
"It was a leash," Elmira said, folding the dishcloth into a perfect square. "I have a meeting at Holmes Holdings today. They want to finalize the terms of my erasure."
"You're going into the lion's den? El, that's insane," Chloe said, her brow furrowed with worry. "Like, clinically insane."
Elmira didn't answer. She put on the blazer Chloe had loaned her. It was cheap polyester, a size too big, but she had used safety pins on the inside seams to tailor it so it fit like a second skin. She pulled on a pair of non-prescription black-framed glasses. They softened the sharp intelligence in her eyes, making her look studious, harmless.
An hour later, she stood at the base of the Holmes Holdings tower in Midtown. It was a monolith of steel and glass, piercing the sky like a needle.
Target acquired.
She walked to the reception desk and gave her name. The receptionist typed it in. A small, polite chime sounded.
The receptionist's smile became fixed and professional. She picked up a phone. "Yes. She's here. Silas is expecting her."
Elmira's pulse remained steady at 60 beats per minute. She adjusted her glasses, feigning nervousness.
A man in a perfectly tailored black suit materialized from the side corridor. Not security. He was management. "Ms. Moran? Please come with us."
"Is... is there a problem?" Elmira asked, her voice pitching up slightly. "I was just told to come to this address."
"This way, Ma'am."
They didn't take her to a conference room. They took her to the executive elevator. The numbers climbed higher and higher until they hit the penthouse level.
She was led into a room with glass walls. A single table. Two chairs. It looked less like an office and more like an interrogation cell.
The door opened. A man walked in. He was tall, with thinning hair and eyes that looked like they had seen everything and hated all of it. Silas. Ingram Holmes's Chief of Staff.
He didn't say hello. He threw a file onto the table. It slid across the surface and stopped inches from her hand.
"Elmira Moran," Silas said. "Recipient of the Holmes Family Scholarship for the last six years. Top of your class at Columbia. IQ of 145."
He leaned over the table. "Why did a genius think she could hide a pregnancy from us for twelve weeks?"
Elmira took a breath. She needed to spike her heart rate. She thought of the eviction notice, of the crushing debt. She clenched her toes inside her shoes.
Heart rate: 110.
"I... I don't know what you're talking about," she stammered. She looked down at her hands, twisting her fingers together. "The scholarship was everything. I would never do anything to jeopardize it. I'm grateful for everything the family has done."
Silas stared at her. He was looking for deceit. He was looking for a threat.
Elmira focused on the blood vessels in her face. She held her breath for a second, forcing a flush to creep up her neck and ears.
Silas tapped his earpiece. "Is she lying?"
A voice crackled in his ear, audible only to him, but Elmira knew who it was. Ingram.
"Biometrics show distress," Silas said to the air. "She's scared."
There was a pause. Then Silas nodded. "Understood."
He looked back at Elmira. The hostility evaporated, replaced by a terrifyingly professional smile.
"The family is prepared to be generous, Ms. Moran. We have a... settlement agreement. It will resolve this delicate situation."
Elmira looked up, eyes wide behind the glasses. "Will it let me finish my degree?"
"It will require you to leave the country permanently," Silas said. He slid a thick document toward her. "And sign this Non-Disclosure Agreement."
Elmira scanned the document. It was ironclad. It basically said she surrendered her rights to speech, thought, and existence in exchange for a one-time payment.
It was her only way in.
She picked up the pen. She let her hand tremble just enough to make the signature look shaky. Elmira Moran.
Silas took the paper. He pointed to the massive mahogany double doors at the end of the hall.
"Mr. Holmes will see you now. To finalize the wire transfer."
Elmira stood up. She smoothed her ill-fitting skirt. She turned her back to Silas.
As she walked toward the doors, the fear vanished from her face. Her jaw set. Her eyes cleared. The rabbit was gone. The hunter remained.
She reached out and pushed the doors open.
