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Jason would have stayed seated there against the door for hours had his bladder not insisted otherwise. Yawning, he resolved to put the idiocy and inconsistencies of the day behind him. Perhaps things would look different in the light of a new morning. He doubted it, but the rhythm of life demanded rest, and he hoped sleep would bring respite.

There was enough ambient light in the room to move around without bumping into furniture, so Jason left the lights off. He closed the window and then wandered into the bathroom, scratching at the patchy stubble on his cheek. Out of habit, he closed the door behind him. He could have stood in front of the toilet to relieve himself, but he was tired so he plonked down on the plastic seat.

Sitting there in the darkness, he noticed a faint glow on the glass shower door. Slowly, the outline of a woman holding a sign appeared. His eyes darted up, looking at the drop light directly above his head. The darkened light bulb flickered. Someone had hidden a tiny projector behind the light fitting, aiming the projector at the shower.

“What the?”

Shush

That one word was written in thick, black letters. The woman’s fingers clutched at a marker, a Sharpie from what he could tell. As the image became more distinct, Jason could see Lily standing there holding a stack of cards facing him. She peeled the front card away, tossing it carelessly to one side, out of camera view.

Don’t speak.

Jason dropped his hands instinctively in front of his crotch, even though his baggy t-shirt covered his lap. He felt embarrassed regardless of the low light making any details around him a hazy, grey blur.

From his perspective, it seemed as though Lily could see him, as though she were responding to his motions. She flicked quickly through several more cards, tossing them carelessly to her left.

I’m sorry.

Confusing, I know.

I can explain.

So much you need to know.

Please, forgive me.

I meant no harm.

Trust me.

She had tears in her eyes.

“I don’t understand,” he said, and she held her finger to her lips, signaling for him to be quiet.

The next series of cards made his blood run cold.

You are in danger.

You must leave.

Not safe.

Please, trust me.

Without saying anything, he mouthed the word, “OK.”

Wherever she was, she was watching him in real time as she smiled in response. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she turned over four more cards.

Count back from 60.

Be out front on one.

No sooner.

No later.

As she discarded the last cue card, her image faded, being replaced with a series of numbers counting down.

59, 58, 57, 56, 55…

Jason sat there on the toilet stunned with his pants still around his ankles. Did he trust her? Could he forgive her? What was going on? Why the mind games?

46, 45, 44, 43…

Time was slipping away.

Jason hated being backed into a corner, being forced to make a snap decision. He needed the opportunity to assimilate what was happening.

Lily must have hidden the projector while she was having a shower the night before, but why the charade? She had to be nearby. Jason stood up, partially blocking the numbers as he pulled up his pants.

31, 30, 29, 28, 27…

He closed the seat on the toilet, flushed, and stood on the lid. His fingers pulled at the projector. It was tiny, no larger than a quarter, and had been wedged between the steel rim of the light fitting and the drywall that made up the ceiling. A long straggly wire acted as an aerial. He turned the device over in his hand. He’d never seen anything this complex in such miniature form before. There had to be a self contained power supply, a radio receiver, not to mention the projector with its bulb and lens.

18, 17, 16, 15…

Was there a microphone embedded in it as well? Was there a camera as well as a projector? She’d seen him. Was there some other device hidden somewhere else inside the bathroom?

10, 9, 8…

He couldn’t see anything over the sink, but in the darkness he could easily overlook a pinhole camera. He reached for the light switch but paused as he realized the countdown was coming to an end.

6, 5, 4…

Shit!

In a panic, he tossed the projector on the ground and threw the bathroom door open. With his heart pounding in his chest, he leaped onto his bed, scrambling across toward the door. Both of his hands worked with superb synchronicity, turning the lock and handle in unison and allowing him to fly through the door and out into the hallway with barely a thought to what he was doing, abandoning his apartment and leaving the door wide open.

Mentally, he had already reached the number one and there was still a flight of stairs ahead of him leading down to the building foyer.

Fuck!