The elevator

Isabel stood in the bathroom stall a moment longer, her palms damp against the cold metal door. The ruined jumpsuit lay in a heap behind her, heavy with coffee stains and torn seams. For a second she considered carrying it with her, but the thought of dragging the sagging fabric along only made her feel more foolish. She left it where it was.

Her simple white bra and underwear clung uncomfortably against her skin, the idea of it being slightly transparent terrified her. Each breath reminded her how bare she was. She pressed her arms tightly across her chest.

The elevator was her choice. Shorter distance, less exposure. If luck held, she would make it before anyone noticed.

With her heart pounding, Isabel cracked the bathroom door and slipped into the hallway. The cool office air kissed her skin, raising goosebumps as though the whole building had noticed her immediately. She padded forward on the carpet, head down, every step deliberate.

From down the corridor came the low hum of voices near the break room. She froze, body rigid, pressing herself against the wall. The voices grew louder for a moment, then drifted in the opposite direction. Relief fluttered through her chest, and she dared to move again.

But as she cut a corner too quickly, her foot struck the edge of a small metal trash can. It toppled sideways with a metallic crash that echoed down the hallway. Pain shot through her toes and she let out an involuntary yelp before she could stop herself.

The sound seemed to reverberate forever. Isabel’s stomach clenched. She had just announced her presence, loud enough for anyone nearby to hear. Panic surged as she straightened the can and then stumbled forward, half-limping, **** to get out of sight before someone came to investigate.

Her eyes fixed on the elevator doors. They glowed ahead like a finish line. She pressed the button with trembling fingers, her breath shallow and uneven.

The light clicked on, but the doors stayed shut. Seconds stretched unbearably. Behind her, she thought she heard a chair scrape against the floor, voices rising again. Any moment now, someone could appear.

She jabbed the button again, silently begging the machine to move faster.

At last, with a muted chime, the doors slid open.

Isabel froze, her pulse pounding in her ears, bracing herself for what she might see inside.