We all know the answer to that, so we come up with a plan. We’ll go together, each of us focusing on the same want to see if the magic will give in and take us somewhere with answers, because there has to be hidden pockets full of secrets within these endless corridors. We just need to find them.

We focus our intentions on finding Nadine’s friend first, but all we do is walk and walk until we’re at the massive front door again. Each time we check the handle, and each time we’re still locked in.

“Maybe this means she did leave,” I tell Nadine. “We keep ending up here—at the front door. That has to mean something, right?”

Nadine nods, but her eyes look lost.

Next we turn our focus to finding out more about my mom, but that takes us nowhere at all. Endless hallways and winding stairs that open to more hallways or empty rooms.

Eventually we give up.

“We’re just too tired to control the magic,” Willow says as we’re parting ways. “We’d be better off trying again tomorrow.”

Nadine and I nod, but we share a look that clearly says we don’t have Willow’s optimism.

Nadine heads down the hallway and disappears, but Willow calls me back.

“I’m sorry about your dress,” she says.

I groan. “Roman told you he changed it?”

“Roman? No…” Her cheeks turn a bright pink. “I did it. I was jealous about Roman training you, and I was just walking, blowing off steam, but I ended up at your door, and I did it without thinking.”

My mouth opens and closes. I can’t quite believe she’d do that.

“I’m so sorry.” Tears line her eyes.

I saw the crack in her earlier. I knew it was bothering her, even if she lied about it. A better friend would have stopped training with Roman. But I am not a better friend.

“Don’t worry about it,” I tell her, and mean it.

“No. It’s not okay. It’s not me.”

“I know it’s not.” I reach out and squeeze her hand. “I prefer black anyway.”

She laughs as one tear breaks free. “You did look stunning.” She still seems nervous as she meets my eyes. “Friends?”

“Always.” Until one of us loses, at least.

She grins at that and waves as she walks away.

When I’m alone outside my door, I try again. Perhaps the other two weren’t focused enough. Nobody’s going to be able to desire finding out about my mom more than me, so I walk down my hallway until it shifts, and I’m somewhere I’ve never been before: a hallway with dark wood paneling that ends in front of a plain black door with a pearl-white handle. I try to twist it and get nothing.

Why is everything in this place locked?