Page 1 of Fire in My Blood

Chapter 1

Erica

“Okay, I’m leaving now. Will you be all right, Erica?” David has put on his coat and is standing in the doorway to his office, studying my face with concern furrowing his brows.

“Of course, I’ll be fine.” I smile at my brother. He’s so protective, always doing his best to make sure I feel safe. “Say hello to Mina and the kids for me.”

“I will.” David waves as he starts down the corridor toward the elevator.

I hum a low tune as I take my time cleaning the offices on the second floor. When I’ve completed my daily routine, I head to the elevator. The only things left before I can go home to my small apartment are the corridor and the interrogation room in the basement.

The elevator is cramped and takes its time descending the two floors. The military compound was built more than seventy years ago, and renovations have been sparse.

After exiting the elevator with my cleaning cart, I make my way down the corridor to the left as I clean the door handles along the way. There are several doors lining the corridor on each side, but I’ve got no idea what’s behind most of them. I know there’s a small storage room with cleaning supplies and stationary behind one of the doors, but I can’t remember which one.

The basement doesn’t seem to be used much, considering the minimal dust and dirt down here compared to the offices upstairs. And that might be why only the corridor and theinterrogation room are part of my cleaning schedule. I don’t know whether the other rooms in the basement are cleaned by someone else or just not in use anymore. But then that’s not really any of my concern.

The interrogation room is at the end of the corridor, and it’s a small room with a table and four chairs. There’s a camera up in one corner and a large mirror on one wall. I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s really a one-way mirror. I’ve watched enough crime shows on TV to assume that it’s common for an interrogation room. But what do I know? It’s not like I know much about what they do in this place, beyond the basic information David has shared with me.

I usually arrive in the late afternoon when most of the people working in the building have already left, so I haven’t really gotten to know anyone in the three years I’ve been working here. Apart from exchanging meaningless pleasantries with the few people I meet in the offices upstairs, I rarely speak to anyone in the building. And that’s exactly how I like it. Being able to stay mostly invisible and by myself is the main reason I’ve continued in the job for so long.

A smile curves my lips as I set about polishing the table. It was already spotless but following the same routine every day makes me relax and ensures I don’t accidentally miss a spot. Most people would probably find this job mind-numbingly boring, but for me it’s my chance to do an honest day’s work without having to contend with a lot of people asking unwanted questions.

After cleaning all the surfaces, I get the bucket of hot water I brought with me from upstairs before selecting the bottle of floor detergent.

“Damn it.” Shaking the empty bottle, I let out an irritated sigh. The fact that I used the last of it yesterday completelyslipped my mind, and I also forgot to send a message to my manager to restock the cupboard of supplies upstairs.

I turn and stare down the length of the corridor. If I want to clean the floors properly, I’ll have to locate the room with the cleaning supplies. Perhaps it’s about time. One of the reasons I’ve always returned upstairs to get whatever I need is that I’m too embarrassed to admit I don’t remember which of these doors hides the storage room.

However, there’s another reason why I’ve never tried to find the storage room. I wish my keycard could only give me access to rooms I’m supposed to have access to, but unfortunately, that’s not the case. Just a few weeks after I started working here, I accidentally entered a room upstairs containing maps and plans I’m sure I wasn’t supposed to see. No one saw me and I never told anyone, not even my brother. But since then, I’ve made sure never to unlock any doors I’m not supposed to. But that might change today.

I bite my bottom lip as I walk up to the first door on my left and swipe my keycard. The door unlocks with a click, and my heart rate picks up.

I hold my breath as I press the door handle and slowly pull the door open. A stale, dusty smell hits me, and with the light from the corridor, I can see the room is filled with old office furniture. Letting out a relieved sigh, I close the door.

The next door reveals the same thing. Then there’s a couple of empty rooms. No wonder I’ve never run into anyone in the basement. Apart from the interrogation room, none of the rooms seem to be in use anymore.

I move on to the fifth door, more relaxed now as there’s clearly nothing here that’s secret or can get me into trouble for snooping around.

Swiping my keycard, I hear the familiar click. But when I open the door, my eyes widen with confusion.

A bowl of soup is sitting on a tray directly inside the door, and it doesn’t look like it’s been there for long. There’s no congealed film on the liquid that I can see.

Shaking my head slowly, I stare at the bowl. Why would someone leave their soup down here? It seems a strange thing to do.

I take a step forward with the intention to pick it up before I stop myself. My first impulse was to return the bowl to the cantina, but that was before realizing removing the bowl would be a mistake.

What will happen if someone finds out I’ve been here? Will they automatically assume I make it a habit to enter rooms I’m not supposed to?

Even though there doesn’t seem to be anything in the basement remotely secret, I’m still expected to follow the rules clearly spelled out to me when I started the job. And the rules are strict on where I can go and what information I can share with anyone outside the compound. It won’t matter that my brother works here; there will be no leniency if I’m caught snooping around.

I stare into the darkness of the room, unable to see the back wall. The light from the corridor doesn’t reveal any clues as to why the bowl of soup is here, but my curiosity is piqued. There has to be a reason.

But although I’ve already opened the door, my law-abiding sense stops me from entering the room and looking around. Instead, I push my curiosity down and close the door before I can do something stupid that might get me fired.

Fortunately, the next door reveals the room with cleaning supplies. I snatch the floor detergent from the shelf and goback to the bucket of water I left standing on the floor in the interrogation room.

I move the cleaning cart to the elevator before I go back to clean the floor in the interrogation room. The corridor is next, and I move backward, swiping the mop over the floor while I shove the bucket behind me with my foot.

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