courage . her feet are still for the first time in hours , now . she is alone in the elevator , save for its silent operator , no longer pacing the floor of her apartment . no longer chewing her nails down as nerves wrack her body . a drink may have soothed her , but stephen had never so much as entertained the thought of breaking the law . his very profession rode on its maintenance , and the liquor cabinet had been bare for months . thus , she has only the cool press of her necklace to ease her , its six points lightly pricking at the skin of her collarbone .
she is dressed modestly , clothes as flattering as she dares , without reaching indecency ; a fitted black dress and coat , intended for the brisk walk to shul each saturday , a small pistol in her pocket for protection . tonight , she is far from her temple . the elevator slows to a stop , and the operator pulls back the grate . augusta chokes down a deep breath , the enormity of her plan washing over her , and then she approaches the only doors on the hall -- slender and painted gold . fist tightened , she raps lightly on the wooden paneling -- once , twice . and then she waits for an answer . / @rcddoor
