“Now that you understand what wormholes are, and what might lay on the other side of them, we’re going to tell you what to do in case one opens up in your store,” Dana said.

Mark leaned forward. “After alerting your manager to the presence of a wormhole, the first and best thing to do is rope off the affected area. Make sure that no customers or associates enter it. They’ll usually collapse on their own within a couple hours.”

“The only time you need to worry is if someone accidentally wanders into the wormhole. Since 1989, all LitenVärld stores have been equipped with the FINNA, a patented piece of equipment that can locate lost people using quantum entanglement. It helps the FINNA division in your store navigate the series of wormholes that the lost person may have wandered through. In our experience, wormholes tend to travel in packs.”

A piece of technology popped up on the screen. To Ava, it looked vaguely like the brick phones that bankers talked on in movies set in the ’80s. It faded into an exploded view, familiar to anyone who had had to put together a piece of furniture from a LitenVärld instruction booklet.

Tricia paused the movie, then shut off the TV. It went black with a quiet pop. “As I mentioned, the company closed its FINNA divisions back in 2009, as a cost-saving measure. Instead, I’ll need two volunteers who are willing to take the store’s FINNA and go after the missing woman.”

The room went silent, as every employee became intent on disappearing. Ava shrunk down in her seat and avoided Tricia’s eyes. She felt a momentary pang of guilt, thinking of the young woman who’d reported her grandmother missing. But Ava had no interest in death by … by whatever those things had been.

“Are we getting overtime for this?” someone else asked.

Ava glanced up long enough to see Tricia shake her head. “Not unless you remain in the other worlds past eighty hours in a single pay period. But! I do have a couple of Pasta and Friends gift cards for the brave volunteers.”

Ava scrunched down in her chair even further. Nobody in their right mind would volunteer for—

“Jules!” Tricia said, and Ava felt the name go through her like an electric shock. “Thank you for stepping up.”

Ava looked over to see Jules with their hand raised. Everyone else in the room was staring too. Jules shrank under the attention, and awkwardly waved before slumping back down in their plastic chair.

“I don’t really need the gift card,” they told Tricia.

Tricia shrugged. “Well, that just doubles the incentive for the next volunteer. Any takers? Two gift cards would make for a pretty good date night.”