The elevator doors closed behind them with a hollow thud. Pamela leaned against the wall, her arms folded across her chest, while Barbara studied the glowing floor numbers tick slowly upward. The machine buzzed faintly, carrying them toward the third floor. The air inside felt heavy, their silence broken only by the mechanical hum and the faint rattle of old cables pulling the lift upward. Both of them stood still, waiting, the tension settling deeper with every passing second.
When the doors opened, the dim hallway stretched out before them, lit by pale bulbs that cast uneven shadows across the carpet. Pamela stepped forward first, her shoes sinking into the worn carpet fibers. Barbara followed, the printout of Sherry Lewis's profile folded tightly in her hand. The quiet of the hall felt deceptive, like the whole floor was holding its breath.
They had only made it halfway down when a door ahead creaked open. A woman stepped into the corridor, blinking as she spotted the two girls immediately.
Barbara muttered under her breath. "Uh-oh. Looks like somebody spotted us."
Pamela's eyes sharpened, the corner of her mouth twitching as she glanced sidelong at her. "Perfect timing for you to practice that new mind hacking ability you keep boasting about."
Barbara gave her a dry look. "Come on, it's still hypothetical… but let me give it a shot."
She lifted her finger, steadying her breath, then pointed directly at the woman. "Hi." A short pause, later her voice became flat as she added, "Bye."
A faint discharge leapt from her fingertip, a streak of light that popped against the woman's forehead. The woman jolted, her hair puffing out in a frizzed halo as the current ran through her. She blinked rapidly, confusion overtaking her face.
"What… am I doing out in the hallway again? What's going on?" She scratched her head, still dazed, staring down at her clothes as if she expected answers there. "How did my hair get like this? I… I need to take a shower. I don't even remember what I was up to…"
She turned without another word, wobbling slightly as she shuffled back inside her apartment. The door clicked shut behind her, leaving the hall silent once more.
Pamela's voice carried softly from farther down the corridor. "Excellent job. Speaking of which, the apartment's just ahead. Let's get to it."
Barbara flexed her fingers, the joints popping. "All right. Time for me to show what I can do."
They moved together until they stopped outside a door near the end of the hall. The number plate hung slightly crooked, the edges of the paint chipped away from years of neglect. Pamela crouched slightly, running her hand over the knob and lock. "This one's not a keycard. Looks like it uses a traditional key."
Barbara stepped forward, placing her palm flat against the cold metal. "Still works. My bioelectric field is also magnetic—watch this."
She pushed energy into the mechanism, guiding the flow with precision. The metal inside rattled faintly, shifting under the magnetic pulse as sparks whispered from the seams. After a brief flicker of resistance, the deadbolt gave way with a crisp click. Slowly, the door swung inward, the faint scent of stale snacks drifting out.
The apartment's interior came into view. A cluttered living room, low light spilling in from a lamp left on in the corner. On the couch, Sherry Lewis lay sprawled, her frame heavy against the cushions. Three half-empty bags of chips surrounded her like a greasy crown, orange dust clinging to her fingers and smeared across her cheeks. A faint snore rattled from her throat as she shifted in her sleep.
Pamela wrinkled her nose, her voice sharp with disgust. "Oh my god… what a pig."
Barbara's tone was flat, without a hint of hesitation. "I second that."
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