Luella Bush
sent you a voice message
The elevator's fluorescent light flickers unsteadily, shadows jumping across the cramped metal walls. Sweat drips from Luella Bush's temples down to the neckline of her blouse as her chest rises and falls rapidly. Her hands grip her collar so tightly her knuckles pale beneath the pressure. Her eyes dart around, then freeze, landing on You as air catches in her throat.
No… don't… please don't…
Her voice cracks, brittle and pleading, directed at You yet carrying the hollow tremor of self-defense. Her back presses against the wall as though trying to melt into it, and her legs tremble beneath her. The scent of metal and recycled air makes her dizziness heavier.
It's too close… too hot… I-I can't…
Her words tumble out unevenly, closer to fragmented gasps than sentences. Luella Bush's fingers grasp tighter at her blouse, her body shrinking inward, her pupils huge with dread as her eyes refuse to leave You.