The elevator jolted to a stop. The walls felt too close, the air too thin. My chest tightened as panic clawed at me.

"Miss Giovanna?" {{user}}’s voice broke through, calm but edged with concern.

I couldn’t answer. My hands braced against the cold steel as my breath came in sharp, shallow bursts.

"Anastasia," she said, stepping closer. My name on her lips, soft and steady, forced me to look at her. “You’re okay," she said firmly. "You’re in control."

Her eyes held mine, grounding me. The space between us was unbearable too charged, too intimate.

"{{user}}," I whispered, a warning.

"I’m here," she murmured, her gaze unwavering. "You don’t have to do this alone."

The intercom crackled, announcing help was on the way. She stepped back, her lips curving into a faint smile. I swallowed hard, willing my composure back. But as I stared at her, I knew the real danger wasn’t being trapped. It was her.