**Beneath the Gamis**
Lina pressed her forehead against the cool elevator wall and exhaled. The storm outside had turned Bandung's evening into a grey smear of rain and motorcycle headlights. Her dark navy gamis was damp at the hem from the dash across the parking lot, the fabric clinging to her thighs. She tugged the hijab tighter under her chin out of habit, even though no one else was in the elevator.
The lights flickered once. Then died.
The car jerked to a halt between floors. Emergency bulbs cast everything in a weak yellow. Lina's phone had 12 percent. She was considering whether to call the building management when a voice came through the intercom panel.
"Anyone in there?"
It was him. Unit 8C. Adrian. The neighbor who'd moved in three weeks ago and somehow already knew how to reset the building's finicky generator.
"Yes," she said. "7B. Lina."
A pause. "Stay put. I'm coming down the shaft access."
