Fifteen minutes had passed since Addison left. I knew this because the System kept perfect time even when my brain couldn't. The rattling continued, accompanied by what sounded like someone wrestling with an armful of objects while trying to operate a door handle with an elbow.
The door swung open.
Addison stood in the hallway wearing a long black trench coat that reached her mid-calves. The coat was buttoned to the throat, cinched at the waist with a belt, and fell in heavy folds that concealed everything underneath from collar to ankle. Her combat boots peeked out from the bottom hem. Her purple-highlighted hair had been pulled into a tighter bun since she'd left, and she'd reapplied her black lipstick with the speed and commitment of someone who considered cosmetics a form of combat readiness.
