There she was. Maeve.
Thankfully, the door wasn't fully open yet—she hadn't stepped inside and spotted me. Good.
Time had already halted the moment I triggered the skill. The world outside the window was frozen: snowflakes suspended mid-fall like white confetti caught in amber, distant traffic locked in place, even the faint steam from someone's coffee cup downstairs hanging motionless in the air.
I rose quickly from the chair, grabbed the laptop off her desk, and moved toward her. She stood frozen in the doorway—mid-stride, one hand still on the knob, expression neutral, professional, the same calm mask she always wore.
I lifted her right hand gently—fingers cool and limp—and pressed her index finger to the reader on the laptop lid. The sensor beeped once, soft green light flashing. Unlocked.
"Let's see…" I muttered, carrying the laptop back to her desk and setting it down. "What was that beep sound, huh? Maybe the same beep that came from the hidden cam?"
