The ceiling tile fell.

It hit the floor with a wet thud. Dust plumed up. You coughed. The air tasted like old paper and rust.

"Is everyone okay?" asked the voice from the doorway.

You looked up.

It was Elias.

He stood there. Holding a clipboard. His face was pale. His eyes were wide.

"I am fine," you said.

Your voice was flat.

You looked at the tile. It lay in a pile of debris. It was white. It was cracked. It was dead.

Elias stepped inside. He wore a gray suit. It was wrinkled. It smelled of sweat and fear.

"The building is unsafe," he said. "We have to move you. Now."

You looked at your hands. They were steady. They were clean. You wore the coat.

It was blue. It was wool. It was warm. It was yours.

You had worn it for three years. You had bought it in Chicago. You had paid a lot for it. It was the only thing you owned that was not issued by the state.

"I will stay," you said.

Elias frowned. He looked at the broken tile. He looked at you.

"You cannot stay," he said. "The orders are clear. The structure is compromised."

"The structure is not me," you said.

"Look at you," Elias said. His voice was soft. It was kind. It was wrong. "You are a prisoner. You are under my command. I am here to protect the asset. The asset is the building. Not you."

You smiled. It was a small smile. It did not reach your eyes.

"You are a traitor," you said.

Elias flinched. He looked away.

"I am doing my job," he said.

"You are selling them," you said. "You are selling the records. You are selling the names."

The room went silent. The dust settled. It covered your shoes. It covered the floor.

Elias closed his eyes. He breathed out. It was a long breath. It was heavy.

"Come with me," he said. "I will let you keep the coat."

You looked at the coat. It hung on the chair. It was folded. It was perfect.

"I will keep the coat," you said.

You stood up. Your knees popped. You walked to the chair. You picked up the coat. It was light. It was heavy.

You put it on. It fit. It always fit.

Elias watched you. He did not touch you. He did not need to. He was the wall. You were the prisoner.

"Follow me," he said.

You followed him.

The hallway was dark. The lights flickered. They buzzed. It was a low sound. It was a constant sound.

You walked behind him. You watched his back. It was straight. It was rigid.

We passed the office. It was empty. The desks were bare. The chairs were overturned.

We passed the archive. The doors were locked. The key was in Elias’s pocket. You saw it. You saw the glint.

We reached the elevator. It was cold. The metal was cold.

The doors closed. The lift moved. It was slow. It was steady.

"You were a good soldier," Elias said. He did not look at you. He looked at the numbers. They climbed. Four. Five. Six.

"I was a killer," you said.

"You were a tool," he said. "I am sorry. I am sorry for what I made you do."

You felt a pain in your chest. It was sharp. It was brief.

"I am not sorry," you said. "I am free."

Elias turned. He looked at you. His eyes were wet. He blinked. He looked away.

"Top floor," he said.

The doors opened.

It was a room. It was large. It was empty. The walls were white. The floor was concrete.

There was a table. It was steel. It was cold.

There were two chairs. They were metal. They were bolted to the floor.

"Sit," Elias said.

You sat.

He sat opposite you. He put the clipboard on the table. He opened it. He looked at the pages. He read.

"You have until midnight," he said. "The transport is coming. They will take you to the facility. It is in the countryside. It is quiet."

"And the coat?" you asked.

Elias looked at you. He looked at the coat. He looked at his hands.

"You can keep it," he said.

"Is that true?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

He did not answer. He looked at the paper. He tapped the pen. It made a click. It was a small sound. It was loud.

"Because you are the only one who knows," he said.

You looked at him. You saw the fear. You saw the guilt. You saw the lie.

"You are going to kill me," you said.

"No."

"You are going to let them kill me."

Elias closed the folder. He put it in his bag. He stood up. He buttoned his jacket.

"I am leaving," he said. "The guards are on the roof. They are waiting for my signal. When I leave, they will come. They will not ask questions. They will take you. They will do what they do."

You stayed in the chair. You did not stand. You did not move.

"Go," you said.

He looked at you. He took a step back. He turned. He walked to the door.

He paused. He looked back.

"I am sorry," he said.

"Save it," you said.

He left.

The door closed. The lock clicked. It was a final sound. It was a hard sound.

You sat in the chair. The room was quiet. The air was still.

You looked at your hands. They were in your lap. They were still.

You looked at the coat. It was blue. It was wool. It was warm.

You remembered the day you bought it. It was a sunny day. The shop was small. The owner was old. He had kind eyes. He said, "It will keep you warm, sir."

You believed him.

You believed everything.

Now you sat in the cold. The coat was warm. It was the only thing that was real.

The door opened.

Two men walked in. They wore black. They wore masks. They carried guns.

They looked at you. They looked at the coat.

"Stand up," one said.

You did not move.

"Stand up!" he shouted.

You stayed in the chair. You looked at the wall. You looked at the white.

"Take him," the man said.

They grabbed you. They pulled you up. Your legs were weak. Your knees shook.

They pushed you. You stumbled. You fell.

The coat bunched under you. It was dirty. It was torn.

You lay on the floor. You looked up. The ceiling was white. The tiles were gone. You could see the pipes. You could see the dark.

The men dragged you. They pulled you by the arms. They pulled you by the legs.

You did not resist. You did not fight. You were tired. You were heavy.

They dragged you to the door. They pushed you out.

The hallway was long. The lights were out. It was dark.

They dragged you. The coat rubbed against the floor. It made a sound. It was a scratch. It was a whisper.

You heard voices. They were far away. They were shouting. They were laughing.

You heard the wind. It blew through the broken window. It was cold. It was sharp.

You saw the sky. It was gray. It was empty.

The men stopped. They stood still.

One man held a phone. He looked at the screen. He frowned.

"Signal lost," he said.

The other man looked at you. He looked at the coat. He looked at his partner.

"Leave him," the first man said.

They walked away. They walked fast. Their boots clacked on the concrete.

You were alone.

You lay on the floor. The coat was over you. It was blue. It was wool.

You felt the warmth. It was fading. It was gone.

You looked at the sky. The wind blew. It was cold.

You closed your eyes.

You thought of the coat. It was not yours. It was never yours. It was a symbol. It was a lie.

You opened your eyes.

You were still there.

The coat was still there.

You stood up. Your legs were stiff. Your back was bent.

You picked up the coat. It was dirty. It was torn.

You put it on. It fit.

You walked to the window. It was broken. The glass was gone.

You looked out. The city was gray. The buildings were tall. They were dark.

You saw a light. It was far away. It was small. It was yellow.

It was a lamp. It was in a window. It was in a house.

You looked at it. You felt a pull. It was gentle. It was strong.

You stepped out.

The air hit you. It was cold. It was wet.

You walked down. You walked to the street.

The street was empty. The cars were parked. The doors were open.

You walked. You walked fast. You did not stop.

You walked to the light.

It was closer now. It was bright.

You saw the door. It was wood. It was old.

You knocked.

There was no answer.

You knocked again.

The door opened.

It was a woman. She was old. She had gray hair. She had kind eyes.

"Who are you?" she asked.

"I am a prisoner," you said.

She looked at you. She looked at the coat.

"Come in," she said.

You stepped inside. It was warm. It was bright.

She closed the door. She locked it.

"You are safe," she said.

You looked at her. You looked at the coat.

It was blue. It was wool. It was warm.

You took it off.

You folded it.

You put it on the table.

It was gone.

It was there.

You sat down.

You waited.