Chapter 3
Daylight hit concrete. Not soft. White cut through high windows and made dust visible.
I woke on thin cot in office. Break area behind glass. Coat still around shoulders. Mouth dry. Feet bare. Beige heels set neat beside cot, one tipped over.
He stood at door. Black suit jacket off now, hung over chair. Black shirt sleeves pushed to elbows. Silver watch caught light.
"You stayed awake," he said.
I didn't answer. Sat up. Pulled coat tighter, then remembered. Needed to look like person who belonged. Not person who slept on floor.
I stood. Slid feet into heels. Both on this time. Strap bit. Straightened cream blouse. Tucked it into gray skirt. Folded charcoal coat. Wool rough against palms. Folded it in thirds, laid it over cot arm. Hands shook. Hid shake by smoothing blouse again.
He watched. Didn't look away to be polite. Watched like he logged details.
"Switch still red?" I asked. Voice low.
He turned toward aisle. Wall-mounted switch on blue rack still glowed red. Small dot in dim.
"Stays red when lights logged on," he said. "System tracks it. Every power draw. Every bay. I left it on all night. Log will show it."
My stomach dropped.
"What does log mean?"
"This warehouse holds medical supply. Temperature sensitive. Insurance requires light and temp log. Rack switches tied to main. If auditors pull record, they see Bay C lit 11 p.m. to 7 a.m. No job order for that."
He said it flat. Not angry. Fact.
"So you can't explain me," I said.
He shook head. "I can. But lie costs more than truth."
He stepped to small sink. Poured water into paper cup. Handed it to me. I took it. Fingers brushed. His warm, mine cold.
"Drink," he said. "Then we decide before truck comes."
" Truck?"
" Delivery. Tuesdays 7:30. Driver knows me. Knows building empty nights."
I drank. Water helped. Looked at office window. Concrete lot outside. Pickup backed near roll door. Not yet. But engine sound grew. Low diesel rumble.
Knock came hard on metal side door. Three raps.
"Margo, stay behind desk," he said. Quick. Quiet. "Down. Out of line of sight."
I dropped to crouch behind battered desk. Coat folded above me. Heels pinched. Held breath.
He walked to door. Opened it six inches. Cold air cut in.
"Morning, Mr. Keller!" Driver voice, cheerful, middle-aged. "Got four pallets. Need signature. You early today. Light was on all night, huh? Saw glow from highway."
I froze. Keller. Name landed.
Man — Keller — didn't flinch. "Inventory check. Ran late. Slept on cot. Didn't want to drive back."
"Ah, got it. Long night." Driver laughed. Clipboard tapped door frame. "Need you to pop bay. Forklift guy called out. Can you bring them in with pallet jack? Or I wait."
Keller glanced back. One second. Eyes found mine behind desk. I shook head tiny. No. Don't bring him in. Don't let him see me.
Keller looked back to driver. "Give me five. Had coffee spill. Need to clear aisle. Wait in cab. I'll wave you."
"Copy. Five minutes." Footsteps retreated. Door thumped shut.
Silence rang. Red indicator still glowed.
Keller exhaled. Locked door. Turned to me.
"He saw light," I whispered. Stood slow. Knees ached.
"He saw exactly what log shows," he said. "Now story must match both."
"What did you tell him?"
"That I stayed. That's cover. Means you were never here. Means if he sees you, I lied on record. Liability shifts to me."
I stared at folded coat. At heels. At switch.
"You should have let him see me and say I broke in," I said. "Less risk for you."
"And more risk for you," he said. "Sheriff gets called. Report filed. You need shelter, not record."
He picked up folded coat. Held it out. Not offering to take it. Offering to return it.
"Option," he said. "You hide in office while he unloads. I sign. He leaves. You leave after. No one knows. Or you stay and I log you as authorized assistant for inventory. Both ways I risk violation. Second way you don't crouch on floor again."
Diesel idled outside. He waited. Didn't push.
I took coat. Didn't put it on. Held it against chest like shield.
"Second way," I said. One short sentence. Throat tight. "Please."
He nodded once. Walked to switch. Hand hovered near red dot.
"When I wave him in, stand near desk. Look busy. Hold clipboard. Don't speak unless asked."
I slipped one heel off again without thinking, then caught myself, pushed it back on. Straightened blouse once more.
He flipped switch down. Red light went dark. Overhead bay lights clicked off with hard snap.
"Ready?" he asked.
May you like
I nodded. Breath shallow. Held clipboard with both hands so shake didn't show.
He unlocked roll door. Daylight poured in. Engine revved. Cover story started before consequence could land.
