Evan woke at 5 AM to frantic knocking that rattled his apartment door. When he cracked it open, his quiet middle-aged neighbor, Mr. Calder, stood trembling, breath sharp and shallow. His eyes were wild. “Don’t go to work today,” he whispered urgently. “Please. Just trust me for once.”
The urgency in Calder’s voice chilled Evan. The man’s clothes were thrown on crookedly, as if he’d been running. Evan stepped back instinctively, uncertain whether Calder was terrified or unhinged. He stared at him, pulse climbing, trying to understand why the old man looked as though dawn itself hunted him.
Calder didn’t wait for questions. He seized the doorframe and whispered, “If you walk out that door, they’ll use you, and you won’t come back.” His tone was deadly certain. Evan froze mid-breath. Who were “they”? And why would anyone use him? Was the man out of his mind?