Chapter 3: Pen Note Smuggled Out

👉 [Previous Decision]: You chose Option A – Secretly roll a hidden note into the casing of an antique fountain pen to pass past the scanner.

I watched Julian’s back as he turned, dismissing me. The surveillance light still glowed, a silent observer. My mind raced, adrenaline thrumming through my veins.

Back at my desk, my fingers trembled as I typed. I drafted a concise note, detailing the missing hours and the chemical residue. It mentioned Julian Kincaid by name and the vague feeling of dread that clung to the 14th floor.

The challenge was getting it past the evening security scanner. Everything digital was logged, everything physical screened.

I remembered Julian’s antique fountain pen. Its ornate silver casing, so distinct. I glanced down at my worn leather loafers. The heel, specifically. A tiny, almost imperceptible gap where the sole met the upper.

My gaze flickered around the sterile workspace. No one was looking. Most of the “innies” were focused, their faces blank.

I carefully peeled back a sliver of the sole of my left shoe, a painstaking process that took three minutes. The thin paper, folded into a minuscule square, slid inside the gap. It was tight, almost too tight, but it disappeared from view.

A bead of sweat ran down my temple. The air in the office suddenly felt thick.

At 7:00 PM, the automated announcement signaled shift change. Employees shuffled towards the elevator banks, their expressions placid.

The scanner hummed as I approached. My turn came.

I walked through, my gait as even and unremarkable as possible, placing my bag on the conveyor. The metal detector beeped.

“Sir, remove your shoes please,” a disembodied voice instructed.

My breath caught in my throat. This was unexpected. The first time in six weeks.

I bent down, my hands steady despite the racing pulse. I kicked off my loafers, placing them on the belt. They slid through.

The security guard, a stout man with a bored expression, waved me through the detector again. No beep.

He handed back my shoes. I felt a subtle ridge under the ball of my foot as I slipped the loafer back on. The note was still there.

I walked into the elevator bank, the pressure in my chest easing slightly. The magnetic doors hissed shut, sealing me away from the 14th floor. For now.

➡️ Read CHAPTER 5 to continue the story