The dancer smiled aloofly. ‘We are all friends tonight. There will be stipulations communicated to you across the evening, only for your own enjoyment and safety.’ Behind her, the vast doors began to open. A scattering of cheers came up from the keenest audience members.

Petra could understand their enthusiasm – this was an opportunity to take part in some opulent dress-up fantasy. It was like being a kid again, but instead of a box of old hand-me-downs, they had apparently been outfitted and styled by one of the most expensive costume departments in the theatre world. Instead of a hand-cut cardboard box, they got to play in this Gothic cathedral to intoxicating industry for a night. In other circumstances, she might be whooping along with the fans, but the shadows of Helena’s illness and the void Beccie had left in Vincent’s soul, the manipulative games Ellis Brown and Olivia Jouval and this elegant Rashida seemed to be playing, hung heavy. Petra didn’t even have to half believe Rose Devriendt’s paranoid theories to be wary of this place tonight. But what most focused her on her purpose was the way Gloria had gripped her fingers – the warmth, the appeal, the mortifying fragility: find Vincent and bring him home.

‘As you’ve been briefed,’ Rashida was saying, ‘tonight is a recreation of the glorious year-end Fallout Ball of Beauchamp University’s Drama Society in 1981, a significant year to us. Each of you has been assigned a role, and through the night you’ll be prompted to undertake certain actions to ensure that our celebration reaches its culmination.’

‘Sounds like a locked-room challenge mixed with a murder-mystery party,’ a man standing to the left of Petra said.

‘Fun, right?’ his companion said, taking his hand.

Petra turned to look at the people standing around her, but lit only by the brewery looming over them and sharp white LEDs slanting in from the parking lot, it was hard to make out their faces very well. If she didn’t find Vincent in this group it would be even harder once they got inside and started wandering through the massive building. She’d already wasted too much time. It was getting late, and at this rate she was going to miss the end of visiting time at the hospital. Helena wouldn’t mind – that much was obvious – but still… Petra should have been there tonight instead of here. But she was here now, and for one reason – not to save Vincent from himself, but to help Gloria, and if the evening wasn’t going to be a complete waste, she had to at least do what she had come here to do.