I couldn’t breathe.

The elevator ride to go upstairs felt like it was squeezing my lungs shut. My heart hadn’t stopped racing since I left him. Every time I blinked, I saw it again, not the act, not the aftermath, but the glint in his eyes when he leaned close and told me to “remember what I saw and if there was anything I wanted to let him know.” The problem was, I didn’t even know if I had seen it, or if my mind was making it worse.

My bag felt heavier than usual. I didn’t remember him handing me anything, but when I fumbled it open when I...