She heard them at 10:47.
Not the breach itself. The breach was quiet, the way professional entries were quiet. What she heard was the guard rotation failing to happen. The six-second window where a footstep should have come and didn't, a corridor that had lost a body.
She was already off the cot.
The hinge pin had been loose for three days. She had it free in one pull now, the door swinging on the unlocked side before the next non-footstep confirmed what the first had started. Corridor empty left. One guard right, twenty feet out, back turned. Something had pulled his attention north, toward the sounds that weren't sounds yet but were about to be.
She went right.
