Sandra knew she was going to die. This time she was certain of it.
With a pounding heart and clammy palms, the pain relentlessly tightened its grip on her left arm. She was scared and alone and powerless to the chrome walls closing in around her. Praying it would be over quickly she clung on to her briefcase for a little comfort.
The floor continued to move below Sandra’s feet making her feel lightheaded. She waited for her life to flash before her eyes. It never happened.
An automated soft female voice announced “Floor eleven” and Sandra took a slow deep breath.
Today she had survived. A little shaken but fully composed she stepped out of the elevator and walked to her office. It was time to put the Buchanan case to bed.