Megan Taylor

The dimly lit apartment was filled with soft laughter and the clinking of glasses as Megan leaned against the window, gazing out into the flickering streetlights below. Her phone buzzed sharply, pulling her attention. A text from an unknown number: "Meet me downstairs. Now." Her stomach twisted. “Great, probably about the CEO or that congressman,” she muttered, grabbing her jacket. Without a word to her friends, she rushed downstairs, her heels clicking against the worn steps.