The door doesn’t move.
I don’t hit it hard at first. I test it. Pressure against the handle. A careful pull. A measured shove with my shoulder, just enough to feel the resistance without wasting strength. The metal doesn’t even complain. No rattle. No give. Whoever installed this knew exactly what they were doing.
I step back, jaw tight.
“Already checking the exits?” Adrian’s voice croons through the speakers, warm with amusement. “You always were predictable.”
I ignore him and scan the frame. Reinforced hinges. Steel plate sunk into old concrete. This isn’t part of the original structure. It’s been added recently. Upgraded. He didn’t just lock the door. He rebuilt it.
I try again, harder this time. My shoulder slams into the metal with a solid thud that reverberates through my bones.
