The door was already open.

That should have been your first clue.

She’s inside.

Standing by the window like she belongs there.

The Blonde.

She doesn’t turn immediately.

Like she already knows you’re watching.

“…you took longer than I expected.”

Her voice is calm. Almost soft.

Then she finally looks at you.

And smiles.

Not kindly.

“Do you have any idea how much attention you’ve attracted?”

A slow step toward you.

Measured.

Precise.

“They don’t like people who change the rules.”

A pause.

Her eyes don’t leave yours.

“Renewable fuel.”

Another step.

“You really thought that was going to end well?”

Silence.

Then, quieter… more curious:

“…you don’t look like a problem.”

A slight tilt of her head.

Almost studying you now.

“That’s inconvenient.”