“Don’t use my name, Jesus. Okay, fine. So one car means five people, max. And I can’t see it being more than three from experience, and they’ve probably left the getaway driver near the car. You’re in an apartment building, which means a choice between the elevator and the stairs, and considering they’ve parked like a total fuckwit, they’re probably looking to get in and out as fast as possible.”

“Literally none of that is good news.”

“Just stating facts. If there’s one guy, he’s in the elevator. If there’s two, they probably split up.”

So basically blocking off either of our options to escape this thing. And if they took the elevator, they’re already outside this apartment.

“Can you send me your location?” Tommy asks.

“I don’t think my phone does that. I’m in the New Maple complex.”

Tommy lets out a whistle. “That’s some fancy shit. How the hell did you wind up staying there?”

“Long story,” I mutter, and then a thought hits me. “Wait. They don’t know we’re here. Shit. Okay. Thanks, Tommy.”

“What do you⁠—”

I hang up before saying any more, then turn to St. Clare and Lars. “No one knows we’re here.”

“They’re parked right outside,” Lars reminds me.

I wave the logic away. “Outside, yes. Here, obviously. But here …” I stomp my foot and gesture either side of me. “No one in their right mind would think we’re in a fucking penthouse.”

“That’s a good point …” St. Clare says.

“But what if the doorman told them?”

“In that case, we’re fucked, but Walter didn’t seem like a snitch, so we’re going to have to take the chance.”

The way I see it, they know I’m in the building, but to find me, they’re going to have to check out every fucking room in this place to narrow down where I could be. They want to get in and out fast, and that is not a fast way to get through things.

Which means Walter is their key to figuring out where we are, so they’re either in the lobby, scaring the hell out of that sweet old man, or they’re already right outside the door.

We won’t figure out which one unless we get going.

“Okay. Plan.”

Lars has the audacity to look shocked, but I keep talking before he can waste more time.

“I’ll go out first. If I’m shot, you know they’re out there. If I’m not, we’re in the clear. We’ll all get in a separate elevator, go down to the first floor, find a window or an apartment that opens onto the back streets, and jump out from there.”

“From a first-floor window?” St. Clare’s eyes go wide.

“Of course.” I cuff his shoulder. “You’ve got this.”