The elevator had stopped moving ten minutes ago.
Or maybe it was five. Time warped strangely in enclosed spaces — especially when you didn't want to be in them to begin with.
Heather tried not to look at the walls. She stared at the silver seam between the elevator doors instead, hoping it would part.
That it would swallow her whole and spit her out somewhere quieter and far.
She was still holding Jake Calloway's coat, loosely over her shoulders like a mistake. It was warm and gentle. And something she didn't deserve after everything she'd muttered under her breath at him.
He hadn't said much since offering it. Just a quiet, "It's not cheating. It's a coat."
That had caught her off guard. As if she'd even been thinking about Caius in that moment.
She wasn't.
She was thinking about how her teeth wouldn't stop clenching, and how her arms felt like brittle branches.
