She has to go to apartment 3B

The door to her apartment closed behind her with a soft click. Darkness and silence enveloped her, as familiar as they were oppressive. Magi slid down to the wood, her forehead resting on the cold surface, trying to calm her racing heart. The bus ride, her reflection on the photos, the note... everything spun in her head like a nauseating whirlwind.

She took the envelope out of her pocket. She opened it again, her fingers tracing the neat, calculated words. "Priority access... gather certain sequences... an advantage for you..." It wasn't a note; it was a hook. And she, exhausted, humiliated, and cornered, was about to bite it.

She didn't turn on the light. She slid down the door to the hallway floor, hugging her knees. What was worse? May's explicit threat or this poisoned offer of help from an old man who spied on her miseries through a screen? At least with May, she knew what to expect. Mr. Evans was an unknown, and unknowns, in her world, always ended badly.

But the need to know, to have, even a crumb of control, to understand how far the net that trapped her reached, was stronger than the instinct to hide. With a sigh that burned her chest, she got up. She went back out into the hallway, closed her door, and stood in front of 3B.

The dark wood seemed to absorb the little light from the hallway. An impeccable doormat with an embroidered poodle waited. She raised her hand. She hesitated. Her knuckles were inches from the wood, trembling. What the hell was she doing?

She knocked. Softly at first, almost a brush. Then, with more ****, a dry sound that echoed in the sepulchral silence of the floor.

From inside, she heard slow, shuffling footsteps, the click of a bolt. The door opened just a few inches. Mr. Evans appeared in the crack, his clear eyes, magnified by his glasses, watching her from the gloom of his living room. He smelled of vintage cologne and butter cookies.

"Miss Magi," he said, and his voice sounded rough, as if he didn't use it often. He didn't seem surprised.

"Mr. Evans," she managed to articulate, her voice firmer than she felt. "I received your note."

He nodded slowly, a calm, deliberate movement. His eyes didn't leave her, studying her with an intensity that was uncomfortable.

"Yes," he murmured. "I was afraid it would get lost in the junk mail." He paused, and his gaze strayed for an instant to the empty hallway before returning to her. "Would you like to... come in? Just for a moment," he added, with a hint of what was meant to be a cordial smile, but which only managed to look tense.

Magi nodded, a dry movement of her head. To cross that threshold was to enter the unknown, but she was already so lost that one more risk hardly mattered.

Mr. Evans opened the door just enough for her to pass and then closed it behind her with the same care with which he had opened it.