Chapter 18
Maggie sat at her desk, staring at the screen without really seeing it.
The diagnostic report in front of her had been open for twenty minutes. She'd read the same three lines at least a dozen times without absorbing a single word.
Her hands were bandaged. White gauze wrapped around both palms, making her fingers clumsy on the keyboard. Every time she moved them, the torn skin underneath reminded her of jagged iron and empty air and the moment her grip had slipped.
She forced herself to breathe. To focus. To maintain the composure she'd been holding together since walking into the operations center that morning.
A new message appeared in her DM box. The secure window through which the link with her mystery computer genius had been established.
Still here. Still watching. You're doing fine.
Relief flooded through her chest. She'd been alone all morning, surrounded by people but isolated by what had happened. By what they thought had happened.
She typed back quickly. I can't focus.
The response came immediately. You don't need to. Just be present. Be visible. Show them you're fine.
I'm not fine.
I know. But they don't need to know that.
Maggie exhaled slowly and closed the diagnostic report. Then opened a different one. Pretended to work while her mind spun in circles, replaying the maintenance bay, the wind, the hands that had shoved her.
A knock on her cubicle frame made her jump.
"Maggie?" It was Derek from infrastructure analysis. Young, earnest, and perpetually frazzled. "Do you have a second? I'm having trouble with the data aggregation module."
She turned, forcing a smile. "Sure. What's going on?"
"The prompts aren't working," he said, pulling up his tablet. "I input the parameters, but nothing generates. Just spins and times out."
Maggie took the tablet, her bandaged fingers making the movements awkward. She pulled up the backend interface, checked the query structure, and found the error immediately.
"You're missing a delimiter here," she said, pointing. "The system doesn't know where one parameter ends and the next begins."
Derek's face brightened. "That's it? Really?"
"Really." She fixed it quickly and handed the tablet back. "Try it now."
He did. The module processed immediately. "You're amazing. Thank you."
"No problem."
“Hey, Maggie, everyone in infrastructure believes you, not what the brass is saying,” Derek whispered before hurrying out the door. Maggie turned back to her screen and drew a deeper breath. How she wished that were true.
Another message appeared.
Good. Normal. Keep going. They all believe you.
She typed back. Everyone's looking at me. It doesn’t feel like anyone believes me.
Let them look. You're one of the best on this platform. They need you. That makes you valuable. Remember that.
Maggie wanted to believe it. But every time someone walked past her desk, she wondered if they thought she was crazy. Stressed. Breaking down.
Or worse. If they knew exactly what had happened and were pretending they didn't.
* * *
The staff meeting at 1100 was torture. Twenty people crammed into a conference room, discussing system updates, maintenance schedules, and resource allocation. Maggie sat at the far end of the table, bandaged hands folded in front of her, and tried to look engaged.
Jonah Pike was there. Sitting across from her. The man was watching her, which made her even more nervous. He didn't ask how she was. Didn't acknowledge the incident. Just watched with those careful, measuring eyes that made her skin crawl.
"Maggie," the department lead said, pulling her attention. "Any updates on the security protocol integration?"
She forced her mind to engage. "On schedule. Testing phase completes next week."
"Good. Any issues?"
Yes. Someone tried to kill me and erased the proof.
"No issues," she said aloud.
The meeting continued. Maggie sat still and silent, hyper-aware of every glance, every pause, every shift in conversation.
When it finally ended, she was the first one out the door.
Back at her desk, another message waited.
You survived that. Well done.
She replied, I don't know how much longer I can do this.
Just until seven thirty. Then it will get better. I promise.
Maggie closed her eyes briefly. Seven thirty felt like a lifetime away.
* * *
The afternoon brought more interruptions. More questions. More problems that needed her expertise.
A systems engineer needed help with access permissions. An analyst couldn't get her visualization tools to render properly. Security called about authentication protocols. Each of them echoed the words of Derek this morning. But still, every interaction felt loaded. Every question felt like a test.
Maggie answered and fixed their problems. Smiled when appropriate. Maintained the mask. But inside, she was screaming.
Another message appeared at 1530.
You're almost through the day. I'm proud of you.
She stared at those words for a long moment. The Guardian contact didn't know her. Not really. But somehow, those words steadied her more than anything else that day.
Thank you.
At Guardian, we have a saying. Whatever it takes. As long as it takes.
She stared at the words until they disappeared. Hopefully, it wouldn’t take long.
* * *
By the time 1900 rolled around, Maggie's composure was fraying at the edges.
She'd made it through the entire day without breaking.
Without crying. Without showing anyone how terrified she actually was.
But the cost was exhaustion that went bone-deep.
She returned to her quarters, locked the door, and leaned against it.
Thirty more minutes. She could make it thirty more minutes.
A message appeared on her tablet, which she’d brought back to her room because the Guardian security person had told her he’d wiped it, and it was clean.
Almost there. When the call comes, answer it. We have things to tell you. Important things.
Maggie's pulse kicked up. What things?
Seven thirty. Trust me.
She sat on the edge of her bed, staring at her phone, watching the minutes tick by with agonizing slowness. At exactly 1930, it vibrated with an unknown number.
She answered immediately. "Reece?"
"I'm here." His voice, calm and steady, flooded through her like warmth. "So is your contact. He's on the line."
Another voice joined. The one she'd been reading all day in her DM box.
"Maggie, listen carefully. This isn't a check-in. We've found something." The voice was disguised and almost mechanical.
Her breath caught. "What?"
"I'm inside the executive systems now. Undetected, of course. I've been reading communications, access logs, and authorization chains."
"And?" Reece prompted quietly.
"The DM that sent you to the maintenance bay was authorized by using executive-adjacent credentials. Not the CEO. Not security. Two people with authority but not visibility."
Maggie's hands tightened on the phone. "Who?"
"Jonah Pike and Marta Voss." A pause. "They believe you've become a liability."
The words landed like blows. She’d worked with both of them. She had a professional relationship. What could cause someone to do that? "Why?" she whispered.
"I don’t think it’s because they think you know too much," the voice continued.
"I'm still working through the whys, but my best guess is that it's related to the work you did before you came back from Florida.
The gates you found. No one can track what you're doing now because I've been covering you. But before that, you lit yourself up."
Maggie felt the floor tilt beneath her. This wasn't punishment. This was prevention.
They hadn't intended to scare her. They'd intended to erase her.
"Is this still deniable on their end?" Reece asked, his voice tight with barely restrained fury.
"No," the voice confirmed. "But for now, we want them to believe they’re safe. Which is why we're moving you both. Tonight."
"Moving us where?" Maggie asked.
"Level Seven. Unoccupied room. Same residential corridor you're already on.
" The voice was typing rapidly in the background.
"I'm looping camera footage. Using a previous night’s footage to spoof security.
Footage of both of you entering your rooms. Lights going off.
Audio muted. Motion sensors spoofed. To the system, you'll both be in your beds asleep. "
Maggie's pulse spiked. "You want us to disappear."
"I want you safe," the voice corrected. "And I want you together. Room 7-C-18."
"You can do this," Reece added. "Maggie, leave your quarters when you get the signal. Walk normal. Don't rush. I'll meet you there."
"What about—"
"I've got everything covered," the voice interrupted. "Trust me."
The line went dead.
Maggie sat frozen for a moment, phone still pressed to her ear. Then she stood, grabbed her tablet, and walked to the door. It seemed like ages passed, but eventually the DM she’d been waiting for popped up on the tablet. Go. Now.
* * *
The corridors felt unreal. Maggie moved through them with deliberate calm, passing people who didn't look at her twice. An analyst heading to the gym. A maintenance worker carrying tools. Security personnel on their rounds.
Room 7-C-18 was at the end of a quiet corridor. Dark. Unused. Clean but impersonal. No signs of recent occupancy.
Maggie scanned her badge. The door unlocked, and she stepped inside.
The room was identical to hers. Same layout. Same furniture. Same window overlooking the ocean. But empty of anything personal.
The door opened behind her.
Reece stepped inside. The lock engaged with a soft click that echoed in the quiet. They stood there for a moment, just looking at each other. This was the first time they were truly alone. Without eyes. Without listening systems. Without the need to pretend they were strangers.