Sophia spent the forty three minutes the way she spent every dangerous wait now. Not pacing. Sitting still on the edge of the bed running the note through every angle she could think of.She read it again under the lamp.They know you. But they dont know yet what they know.Three words then a longer line. Different pressure on the pen for each, like the writer had stopped between them and thought hard about what to add.Go to the east corridor bathroom at midnight. Come alone. Dont tell the man with the tattoos.She turned the paper over twice looking for anything else. A watermark. A second message hidden under the first. Nothing.At eleven forty she made her decision the way she made most decisions now. Not because she trusted the note. Because not going meant losing whatever information the note holder thought was worth four lines of risk.She put the knife at the small of her back where Rafael told her it belonged.The east corridor bathroom sat past the laundry room near a stairw
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