Not even a glimmer of light remains in the enclosed space.She presses her hand to her chest, which has begun to suffer short, stabbing pains. She hasn’t felt these invisible arrows in years, but she knows the paralyzing pricks of panic all too well.Get a grip, count to ten, breathe deeply. You’re a grown woman and everything’s fine; this is an elevator, not the trailer.Sounds trickle into the car, a faint buzz followed by a steady tick. When a small bulb on the elevator panel blooms into light, Michelle inhales an unsteady breath and looks at the others. The housekeeper’s fear is visible in her trembling chin and wide eyes, but the redhead’s face is as blank as a mask. Something about the woman ignites a spark from Michelle’s memory cells, but after an instant the ember burns out.When she is certain she can speak in a steady voice, she asks, “Are we all right?”The redhead doesn’t respond, but the cleaning woman pulls the earbuds from her ears and dips her chin in a solemn nod.“Then let me see if I can get us out of here.”All the buttons on the elevator panel remain dark.
