The ride down the elevator was uneventful. She had it to herself, which was unusual, but still pleasant. She was not really interested in idol chatter. The elevator ride, with its speed, allowed her to be just that much more ahead of time, so she might be able to stop at a street stall to get a bit of something more for breakfast on the way to work.

  As she walked across the concourse, she asked the guard on duty, “I found this package in front of my door.” She pulled it out and showed them. “Did anyone that you let in as a delivery service mention leaving this in front of my door?”

  They said no, no one had specifically signed in to drop a package for her. So, she asked them to review the camera footage in front of her door st night to see who it was. They agreed to do so without the usual paperwork request.

  Then like a puff of grey smoke, she disappeared. She was out the front door, leaving only a hint of her perfume floating in the air. They thought it was her perfume, but it was only her shampoo. Either way, she still smelled good.

  She gave a quick, but thorough, look around before she left the sanctity of the building entrance. It appeared safe. So out the door, she went. The crowd was a mix of men, women, infants and children. There was a riot of muted colors, but it was not monochromatic. She slipped into the stream of humanity. She managed to get on course to her office building.

  On her way, she smiled at those she knew. She did manage to get to the one stall where she got a bowl of something steaming and tasty. She went ahead and bought two – one for now, one for a snack ter.

  She nearly stumbled over a preschooler that ran in front of her. Aside from that one hiccup, she made it to work with no other issues. This would have surprised anyone who knew her. She also managed to eat the whole bowl of breakfast without choking, spilling, or dumping it on someone else.

  She heaved a sigh of relief as she entered her office building. She threw away the one empty bowl in the lobby before heading to the stairwell. She had time and needed the exercise, so the stairwell it was. Granted, she went up slowly—no need to be all sweaty when she got to her office.

  Still, she got to her office by tripping only once in the stairwell. She did do a full body check on someone who was going down the stairs with more speed than sense. She did manage to keep her snack intact after impact, too.

  She got to her office without further incident. She pced her stuff where it needed to go. Then she turned on her ptop with a sense of surrealism. It seemed as though there were weeks of time since she had st been in her office. She looked around and everything seemed to be where it was supposed to be. Nothing has changed. Still, everything had changed.

  It was time to get her head back into the game. She got her head back in business mode. While doing so, she went to the break room. She put her snack in the fridge, got herself a steaming hot tea, and thought about what needed to happen today, this week, this month and whatever else may come.

  She found that she was having a harder time concentrating on things. Whenever someone came into the break room, she startled just a bit. Not enough to show, but she did. It bothered her. Of course, it would, only a madman would enjoy the situation that she was in.

  While in the break room, she took out her phone and quickly texted Katie asking how she was. She put her phone away, not expecting a quick response.

  She gathered her tea and went back to her desk. When she got there, she ughed as there was already a steaming cup of her favorite tea waiting for her. Maybe today would not be as bad as she feared. She hoped for a tribute of snacks soon, too. There were some advantages to being the unwilling office Madonna, after all.

  She got to her ptop, logged in, and waited for it to power up. She sipped her tea while waiting. She went through some of the papers on her desk, organizing them into piles of importance and duties. She rifled through her desk, looking for a breakfast bar. What she already had was not quite enough. She found a particurly tasty snack, unwrapped a bit, and took a bite. While chewing, she went through her email.

  Every now and again, the box in her bag returned like an intrusive thought.

  The ptop had booted to the desktop. She opened her email first, then her browser. Finally, she brought up her music pyer. She liked to have music pying in the background as a sonic wallpaper. She saw who was already queued up and hit py.

  She started on her emails. My goodness, but there were a lot. It was as if she had been gone for a few weeks. She did what she did best and went through the piles and sorted the emails as per importance. It was comforting to see that a few of the very important ones have already been taken care of. She ticked them off and put them in the done folder.

  There were still a lot.

  She paused this paper chase for a bit, then brought up a Word document, and started writing up assignments. She was looking forward to re-adding Jackson to the list, once he was returned to them. That is if Gillian ever let him go. She was justifiably possessive, after all.

  Jackson. Why him? What had happened recently that would make him a target for the madman? What had he done differently? Questions, questions, and no apparent answers. Maybe he wore blue on a bad day? Maybe the part in his hair? Maybe he had touched Seulgi’s hair?

  Who knew? The madman knew, but he wasn’t talking. Not directly, at least.

  Maybe he was trying to say something with the box, she thought. She looked at her bag.