ARIA

The heavy door clicked shut, cutting off the sight of Mark’s retreating back.

I stood in the center of the office for a long moment, listening to the silence. It didn't feel empty and heavy with the echo of his panic.

I had seen the terror of a man who realized the ground beneath his feet had turned into quicksand.

He was running helter-skelter, chasing ghosts in the machine, terrified of calling the cops because he knew—deep down—that he was the criminal. He couldn't report a theft from a vault he had tried to rob.

A slow, cold smile spread across my face.

"Run, Mark," I whispered to the...