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That car journey was... something. Poor Gracie wanted to play 'I Spy' with everyone, but Sam was the only person joining in. Meanwhile, Leah and I sat at the front, not speaking a word to each other. There were a few occasions, at a stop light, where we exchanged glances. But the light would turn green and she'd put her focus back on the road. Was she angry at me? Hurt by me? Shocked that I suddenly had a new 'friend'? Disappointed in my life choices? I wished she would tell me something. But most of all, I wished I could just ask her how she felt instead of retreating to my shell like a scared turtle.

She dropped us off at the back of the building since there was no way around the front without an employee permit. Which I had with me, but I'd already burdened her enough for one day, so I didn't mention it. Sam's relationship with Anderson seemed too complicated to issue him a visitor's pass, and it was exactly nine o'clock so I didn't have time to squeeze some details out of him. Instead, we agreed he should remain close to the building. That way, if we did get an instruction, we weren't too far from each other. I felt a little guilty that the guy had to wander around aimlessly for eight hours. But then I reminded myself that I didn't give a fuck.

As I hurried to the front of the building, my mind raced through what could happen the moment I got to the French doors. Would Vicky remember the night before? If so, would she apologise, or would she act as though it never happened? If not, would she be the same old Vicky, or will the game have changed her in other ways? What if Sam was wrong? What if all it took to activate a Hunter was for them to see you, or smell you, or something, and she immediately pounced at me? Maybe I should've just called in sick or taken a spontaneous holiday.

With a shaky breath, I rounded the corner. My burning muscles let go of their tension as the reception desk came into view and, in place of Vicky, was Foster. Our weekend receptionist.

But it's Tuesday.

My moment of relief shifted back to worry as I entered the building. What happened to Vicky? Was she okay? Had Ethan given her the day off? Sam did something to her, didn't he? Oh... oh no. No coffee? No cupcake? And I thought yesterday was a bad day. Fuck.

"There you are, Alani." Ethan's voice shooting across the foyer pulled me out of my thoughts. I didn't even realise that I'd waltzed right up to the desk. Foster gave me a bemused look. But honestly, he could've been serving me that look from the moment I walked in and I wouldn't have noticed. Offering him a welcoming smile, I turned my attention to Ethan as he strode toward me. Thankfully not looking like he wanted to smite me where I stood.

When he reached me, he didn't stop. Instead, he placed his hands on my shoulders, spinning me around and ushering me toward the elevator. "I've been looking for you," he sang, patting my shoulders to the rhythm of his words.

"Yeah, sorry I'm late. My neighbour was, like-"

"Oh, no, don't worry about it," he insisted. Thank fuck for that, because I had no idea what excuse I was setting up for. "You're never late. Just don't make a habit of it, yeah?" He patted my shoulders one last time before calling the elevator. Despite his mood being a lot brighter than yesterday morning, a wave of dread washed over me. This day was all wrong.

The elevator doors slid open. "Where's Vicky?" I asked as we stepped inside the empty cabin, pushing the button to the third floor.

"Oh, she called in sick last night." He shrugged, leaning against the handrail.

I swallowed, my blood running cold. Could it be..? No. It was just coincidence. If being inside my base blocked my signal or whatever, then she should at least revert to normal until I had to leave. She shouldn't be tortured with the memory. Right? I sniffed, averting my troubled gaze and wiping a bead of sweat off my forehead. "Did she say what was wrong?" I needed to know it wasn't because of me. Because of this game. I needed to know if my ignorance ruined her life.