Mara smiled. "You did all right. You kept calm. That's half the battle."
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The passenger, a frantic coder with a "Hurricane.com" lanyard, nodded. He was vibrating with the kind of nervous energy that only comes from a looming deadline or a massive breakthrough. As the lift began its smooth, vertical sprint, the temperature inside seemed to climb. It wasn't the machinery; it was the friction of the city itself, pressing against the glass walls. Mara smiled
The storm came up faster than anyone expected. By midafternoon the sky over the city had gone the color of bruised fruit, and wind shoved flurries of glassy rain sideways along the avenues. In the high-rise where Mara worked, tenants trickled in from the street, soaked and pale, clutching packages and phones and the small comforts they could hold between gusts. That's half the battle
