The rain had finally dulled to a drizzle by the time the cab screeched to a halt outside Kingsley Corporation. Towering glass and steel loomed ahead, bright against the midnight sky. Jean opened the door without waiting for the engine to stop.
"Hey! Miss! The fare!" the cab driver called after her, frustration rising. But Jean didn't spare him a glance.
She stepped out… barefoot, soaked, trembling… but her steps didn't falter. Her white outfit clung to her, transparent in places, revealing the cuts on her knees, the scrapes on her arms. Blood mixed with rain, trailing in soft crimson smudges behind her with every step.
The security guard at the front entrance stepped forward, raising a hand to block her path. "Ma'am, you can't just…"
Then he saw her face.
Recognition struck like lightning. His mouth opened, closed, then stammered, "M…Ms. Adams?"
Jean's eyes burned like fire. "Which floor is Logan Kingsley on?"
