The night things stopped being normal...

The call remains connected, but Mara's breathing and the traffic behind her cut off mid-sound. The silence on her end feels abrupt, almost deliberate.

A faint burst of electronic noise crackles through the phone, thin and irregular. It repeats once, then settles into a barely audible hiss.

Her warning arrives beneath another wash of interference, distorted at the edges. Outside, Leon waits in the hallway, close enough that the door carries the faint shift of his weight.

Adam takes his phone, keys, wallet, jacket, and the small bag beside the couch. He leaves the gaming device and book behind, then kills the apartment lights.

The back window sticks before giving way with a brittle scrape. Cold air enters, carrying traffic noise and the rusted smell of the fire escape below.

He climbs onto the narrow landing and eases the window shut behind him. The metal flexes under his weight, every movement answered by a muted groan.

The fire escape ends one level below, its retractable ladder gone and the drop too far for a safe jump. Retreating means reopening the window, but the landing offers another view.

Across the alley, a narrow maintenance bridge connects to the neighboring building's roof access. Its gate hangs partly open, close enough to reach only by crossing the upper platform.

Behind him, the apartment remains dark and silent. Below, the alley is empty, leaving the roof route as the only visible way forward without returning to the door.

Adam scans the alley again. A large dumpster sits below the platform, offset from the wall by several feet, its lid slanted and slick with rain.

He judges the distance, braces one hand against the railing, and jumps. His shoes strike the dumpster's edge instead of its center.

The lid snaps downward under him. Adam slides across the metal, catches the rim briefly, then drops into the narrow service alcove beside the dumpster.

He lands hard on packed pavement, jarring his knees and palms but staying upright. Above, the fire escape is now out of reach, and the dumpster blocks the direct path.

The alcove ends at a metal service door beneath the neighboring building. Its wired-glass window is dark, and a push bar waits beneath a red EXIT sign.

Behind him, the alley remains empty. From the apartment's direction, a faint rectangle of hallway light appears at the roofline, then vanishes.

Adam leaves the service alcove through the alley, keeping his pace brisk but ordinary whenever windows or passing headlights catch him. The rain helps disguise his hurried movements.

His car waits in the nearby lot beneath a weak sodium lamp. He unlocks it, gets inside, and starts the engine without lingering over the apartment's direction.

The phone remains in his hand as he pulls from the space. Mara's number is still connected, though the line carries only faint static and the low hum of traffic.

Streetlights smear across the wet windshield as Adam follows the route toward downtown. The building falls behind him, replaced by late traffic and dark storefronts.

The call stays open while Adam drives toward Mercer Street. Ahead, the parking garage sign rises above the traffic, its entrance glowing white against the rain.

Traffic stays light as Adam drives toward Mercer Street, the wet lanes opening between scattered cars. Relief comes with every empty stretch, though each passing vehicle draws his attention.

A dark sedan moves alongside him, then continues toward the next intersection. Its ordinary speed offers no clear threat, but Adam tracks it until it disappears.

The Mercer Street parking garage rises beyond the storefronts, its white entrance lights reflecting across the windshield. Adam turns in without stopping, and the barrier lifts.

He takes a ticket from the machine and follows the spiraling ramp upward. Concrete pillars pass in steady intervals while rain ticks against the car roof.

On level three, section C waits beneath fluorescent lights. A young adult woman in a charcoal coat stands beside a blue hatchback, slim and pale, with cropped auburn hair and a noticeable scar through one eyebrow.