“She told me the security system was disconnected.”
“It was upgraded three months ago.”
His eyes flicked toward the hallway.
At last, he saw the red indicator.
The color seemed to pull the air from his lungs.
“What does that light mean?”
Rachel turned.
Her face collapsed.
Marcus rushed to the panel and struck it with the handle of the g/u/n. Plastic cracked, and the display went dark.
But it was already too late.
“It means the alert was transmitted,” I said. “Breaking the panel doesn’t cancel it.”
“How long ago?”
“The moment you str/u/ck me.”
Rachel whispered, “That was twenty minutes ago.”
Marcus moved to the front window and lifted the curtain.
He stared into the darkness.
Nothing moved outside.
No sirens.
No headlights.
No voices.
He looked back at me with a smile that did not reach his eyes.
“You’re lying.”
“Then leave.”
