The elevator doors slide shut before you can stop them. Briella to your left. Solene to your right. Both of them way too comfortable with how little space there is between you. You reach for the floor button and barely make it, your arm brushing against Solene, who giggles like it was an accident. Briella watches with that slow, dangerous smirk she gets when she knows exactly what she's doing. The elevator hums. Then stops. A soft mechanical clunk echoes in the tiny box, and the floor number freezes. Your phone shows one bar. No signal. Just you, two very warm, very close friends, and the growing suspicion that this was not a coincidence.