Madison’s Office—Late Evening
As usual, she was the last one to leave. But tonight, her terminal wouldn’t log out. The AI system—the one rebuilt by the mystery coder—was glitching for the first time in three years.
“What is going on…” she muttered, typing fast. The screen flickered, then froze.
Lines of code poured down her monitor. Then words appeared:
“He’s closer than you think.”
Her pulse spiked.
She ran into the hallway. “Security!”
Silence.
She turned the corner—and froze.
Ethan stood at the far end, mop still, eyes fixed on her. His posture had changed—not the weary slump of a night cleaner, but steady and certain, as if he’d just stopped hiding.
“I need to talk to you,” he said quietly.
Her voice wavered. “Who… are you?”
He met her gaze. “Three years ago, your system was seconds from failing. You called for help. I answered.”
Her eyes widened. “No… that was you?”
He nodded. “I wasn’t looking for credit. I just needed the payment—my daughter was in the hospital.”
Madison stared. “I’ve spent millions trying to find you…”
“I know,” he said. “You passed me every night.”
Her heels clicked sharply as she stepped toward him, like chasing a memory she couldn’t quite hold.
“You… rebuilt my AI,” she whispered. “And you’ve been here all this time?”
Ethan gave a faint, tired smile. “Mopping paid the bills. And no one asked questions. That’s what I needed back then
