No strings attached / Leon s. Kennedy

Chapter 32

With one final breath, I gather every ounce of courage I have left and push the car door open. The cool night air hits me like a slap, grounding me as I step out, my heart pounding in my chest. Every step toward the building feels heavier, like I'm walking a tightrope with no safety net below.

The lights of the facility shine in the distance, cold and sterile, and I keep my pace steady, my head high, forcing myself to look like I belong.

When I reach the front entrance, the familiar faces of the guards glance up, their expressions neutral. My breath catches, but I don't falter, don't hesitate. If I show even a hint of doubt, they'll see right through me.

"Evening, Torres," one of them says, nodding slightly.

"Evening," I reply, keeping my tone steady, professional. "I've got some work to finish upstairs."

He waves me through without a second thought, and I feel my pulse quicken as I step inside. The first hurdle is cleared, but it's far from over. The restricted section is still ahead, and that's where the real challenge begins.

Play it smart, I tell myself. You've got this.

I walk toward the elevator, clutching my bag tightly against my side, my fingers gripping the strap a little too hard. I've never been good at lying. Not to their faces. They'd see it if I faltered, wouldn't they? They'd catch me in an instant. But tonight, I have to believe that this willpower, this desperate need for the truth, can carry me through.

The sterile lights hum softly above me as I reach the elevator, my reflection staring back at me in the mirrored doors. I look calm—composed, even—but inside, it's chaos.

The ding of the elevator pulls me from my spiraling thoughts, and I step inside, my breaths shallow and quick. The doors close behind me, and for a moment, the world outside feels shut off. I press the button for the restricted floors, my finger hovering for a second longer than it should, before the elevator starts its quiet ascent.

I try to ground myself, but my pulse won't settle. They can't know. They won't know. But the truth presses against the edges of my resolve, threatening to crack it open. I don't belong to them anymore. I haven't since the moment I saw my life plastered across Leon's walls, since I realized everything they told me was a lie.

The elevator slows, the soft ding announcing my arrival. I swallow hard, lifting my chin and stepping forward as the doors slide open. 

The door slides open, and I step through, my heart hammering so hard I'm afraid the guards might hear it. They glance at me, their expressions calm, indifferent. Of course, I'm allowed here. I've always been allowed here. They don't question me, don't even linger on me for longer than a second. My presence is just another part of the routine.

I take a steadying breath, my bag still clutched tightly in my hand as I move forward, the sterile lights overhead reflecting off the polished floor. Everything feels sharper, colder, as though the weight of what I'm doing is pressing down on every nerve.

Then I see it.

My eyes fall on the area behind the glass wall, and my steps falter, just for a moment. That's it. That's where they've been keeping it—the restricted section, locked away like some untouchable secret. The glass gleams under the harsh lights, shielding what lies beyond, but I can see the outlines of it all. Rows of cabinets, files, computers humming with untapped data. It's there. Everything.

How do I get in there? My mind races, running through every possibility, every excuse I might use if someone stops me. My access clearance has never extended this far—not into the parts of the building they've always kept hidden, even from me.