A couple of doors lead to parts unknown, but before I can wonder about them, a man steps out from behind the flat screens. He’s older, maybe late fifties, and short enough that his head would barely reach my chin. His black hair is halfway gone to gray, and a dyed black mustache shows white roots against his skin. Small black eyes are made brighter by a pair of round glasses that have slipped partway down a wide nose.

His smile is huge, revealing slightly crooked but bright-white teeth, and his small black eyes fill with moisture. “I’m so relieved you made it,” he says. “I’m Manny Gomez. Welcome to the Sandusky Cell.”

“Cell?” I say.

But Gomez ignores me, heads straight for Trey. He reaches out a hand to shake. Trey grasps it with obvious hesitation. “Trey Dawson. It’s an honor and privilege to finally meet you.”

“What? How do you know my—”

“Ethel Betts,” Gomez says, moving on to Tanq. She stares at his offered hand without taking it. “I’ve heard so much about you. I’m glad you and Trey found each other.”

Tanq continues to gape at his outstretched hand.

Gomez drops his hand. “Ethel, I know you’ve been through a lot—”

“Her name,” I snap at him, “is Tanq.”

“With a q,” Trey says, just as emphatically.

Gomez blinks, stepping back.

He peers into Tanq’s face. “No, you’re definitely Ethel Be—”

Tanq crosses her arms, raises an eyebrow. “You heard my friends,” she says.

He seems to catch himself. “I see. In that case, welcome, Tanq with a q. I can’t tell you how happy I am to see you.”

“How do you know our names?” I say. “Explain, please.” Manny Gomez seems friendly enough. But this frisson of being known without knowing is making my belly squirm.

He walks over to me, lifts his chin, narrows his eyes. “My, you’re tall. You and Mr. Dawson both.”

I exchange a wry look with Trey. “Yeah, we get that a lot.”

“Are you Becky Reese? You don’t look like her photos except for that white-blond hair. But maybe—”

“I am not Becky Reese.”

Manny Gomez opens his mouth. Closes it. Finally, he asks, in an almost-timid voice, “What is your name, please?”

“Paige Miller.”

He gasps.

Wyatt steps forward. “The basketball player?” he says. “The one who can slam dunk?”

I’m suddenly even more uncomfortable, and I’m not entirely sure why.

“My god,” Manny Gomez breathes. “You were not on my list. Young lady, I was not expecting you at all.”

I don’t know what I’m supposed to say to that.

“What’s that mean?” Trey says. He angles his body protectively in front of me.

“Manny,” Wyatt says, tapping his wrist where a watch should be.