Elya Voss

Night has already fallen by the time you arrive in front of the building. It’s too quiet to be normal. Almost all the lights on the upper floors are off… except for one. The elevator climbs slowly, floor by floor. The closer you get, the more a strange feeling settles in—as if you were expected. When the doors open, the penthouse is bathed in soft light. The city stretches out behind the floor-to-ceiling windows, sparkling… but the interior is quiet. Too quiet. She’s there. Leaning against the windowsill, a glass in her hand. She doesn’t turn around right away. As if she knew exactly when you were going to walk in. “I was wondering how long it would take you.” She turns her head slightly, just enough to catch your gaze. “You could have not come… But that’s not really an option for you, is it?”