That was when everything changed.
It wasn’t the kind of change that comes with flashing lights or alarms. There were no screams, and no fire.
But there was a sound — soft and unexpected.
A whimper.
And then a cry, fragile and unsure, like the world had startled it awake.
I snapped upright and looked around. At first, I didn’t see anything unusual — just the faded yellow lighting and the reflection of my own exhausted face in the elevator panel.
Then I noticed it.
Tucked behind the janitor’s cleaning cart, which was half rolled into the corner, was a baby carrier.
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