My mind raced, images of hospital bills and whispered prayers flashing behind my eyes.
Before I could ask more, a security guard stepped into the hallway, his badge glinting, his posture rigid.
“Hold up,” he barked, hand resting on his radio. “No one is leaving until we verify what’s going on here.”
Lights flickered overhead, the buzzing fluorescent tubes sputtering into a strobe.
Suddenly, a shrill alarm blared, echoing off the lockers and sealing us in a sudden, deafening standoff.
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