I didn’t stay to watch them be dragged out into the hallway. I had seen enough. The predators had become the prey, and their cries for mercy meant absolutely nothing to me.
I picked up my purse, offered a polite nod of thanks to Mr. Davis and the detectives, and walked out of the conference room.
I stepped into the elevator and rode it down to the ground floor. As the doors slid open, I walked out into the bright, bustling lobby of the high-rise building.
For weeks, I had lived in a terrifying, muffled silence, isolated and hunted in my own home. But as I stepped through the revolving glass doors and out onto the busy city street, the world rushed in to greet me.
The blaring horn of a taxi cab. The low, rhythmic rumble of a subway train passing underneath the pavement. The bright, chaotic chatter of hundreds of people walking past me. The sharp, cheerful clinking of coffee cups from a nearby café.
It wasn’t a dull, rushing static anymore. It was a symphony of life, of freedom, and of absolute victory.
I took a deep breath of the crisp city air, closed my eyes, and listened to the beautiful noise.
