[162 Days Left to Live]
Zephany tugged the cap lower over her eyes and adjusted the oversized glasses on her nose. Her hair was tied in a messy bun and tucked inside the hood of her plain gray hoodie.
She'd debated for hours whether to use the back entrance but decided that walking in through the front gate might seem less suspicious.
It had been a week since she disappeared from work, a week since her name splashed across news outlets and social media. Now, as she stood in front of the building, she half-expected a horde of cameras and flashing lights waiting to devour her whole.
But there was none.
Not a single reporter.
The guards gave her a quick glance, then went back to their usual conversations. A woman in a pencil skirt brushed past her, muttering about a broken coffee machine, completely uninterested in Zephany's presence.
She blinked.
Was this... normal?
