I didn't wait for a reply. I bolted out of the penthouse door, the heavy oak slamming shut behind me. I didn't bother waiting for the elevator; I hit the stairwell, my boots thudding against the concrete steps as I took them three at a time.
I reached the floor below and rounded the corner into the hallway. The shouting was much louder here, the wood of Eleanor's door vibrating with the force of the argument inside.
"I told you I don't have it, Mark! Get out!" Eleanor's voice was a frantic scream.
I stepped up to the door and didn't hesitate. I balled my fist and hammered against the wood three times, the sound echoing like thunder in the narrow corridor.
"Eleanor! Open up!" I said.
The yelling suddenly stopped, and the door opened. Her brother stood in front of me, hair disheveled, breathing heavily like he had just run a marathon. He glanced back at Eleanor, who was standing a few meters behind him with her hands on her waist.
