October 1996, Midtown Office Plaza, Wichita, Kansas. HR manager Nora Vance locks up for the night, a stack of personnel files under her arm, heels ticking across linoleum. The cameras catch her last wave to the night guard at 8:17 p.m.—then dissolve into pure static. Her car never leaves the lot. Her purse sits open on the passenger seat. Every piece of ID she owns is there… neatly sliced in half.
No footprints. No struggle. No goodbye. Wichita PD calls it burnout and voluntary flight. Her coworkers know better. Nora lived for the chaos of resumes, grievances, and terminations. If anyone understood how to walk away clean, it would have been her. Instead, she seems to have been deleted.
Her sister June keeps what’s a silver charm ring, a few snapshots, and the echo of Nora’s laugh in an empty kitchen. The plaza keeps the rest.
The building’s first signal comes quietly. After hours, phones in HR ring to an empty floor. Callers hear their own breathing, then Nora’s recorded voice—Press one for benefits, press two for—cut off by a whisper that isn’t on any official You’re hired. Security swaps tapes, wipes drives, upgrades cameras. Every night at 8:17, the same Nora’s hand lifted in mid-wave, eyes focused on something past the lens, then gray snow.
Return Never, an Indestructible Fractal Shadows novella, turns a vanished HR manager into the permanent head of a haunted file room. The Midtown Office Plaza still hums at 8:17 p.m.—phones ringing, elevators dropping to floor zero, badges printing with names that shouldn’t be there.
Step into the building after hours. Take the elevator. When Nora asks for your name, answering is a contract.