“The computer is showing that address you gave me is invalid,” the dispatcher said.

“What does that mean?”

“It means that, according to our system, the address doesn’t—”

The woman’s voice cut off and the phone’s screen went black. Amy pressed the Power button but her phone was dead, useless as a brick.

“What did they say?” Basil asked.

“I’m not sure they’re coming,” Amy said. “We might be on our own.”

“I know you two are panicking,” Basil said. “But we need to find Carl. He—”

“He’s not Carl anymore,” Amy said. “You weren’t there. You didn’t see what we saw. Trinity called out to all the spirits in the store. She invited them to join us. And something in the store took over Carl. He called himself a warden. A healer of souls. He said we were all penitents—”

“Josiah Worth!” Matt realized, turning to Amy. “That’s the guy I was telling you about earlier. The warden of the Cuyahoga Panopticon. The prison from the nineteenth century.”

“Oh, enough with the Ghost Bomb crap,” Basil said. “Carl is a homeless man in severe mental distress. Per the Orsk Leadership Culture Handbook, we need to find him, comfort him, and call for medical assistance. That’s official store policy.” He aimed his flashlight down the hall. “The guy’s probably halfway to Bedrooms by now.”

“This hall doesn’t go to Bedrooms,” Amy said. “It goes to the Beehive. To a nineteenth-century prison. Please stop acting like this hall is normal. You must know it doesn’t really exist.”

“Of course it exists,” Basil said. “We’re standing in it, aren’t we?”

“It could be a hallucination,” Matt said. “A product of EM fields or some kind of toxic venting.”

“You really think so?” Basil asked.

Matt punched the wall as hard as he could. The impact shook loose a shower of damp plaster flakes. He unclenched his fist and shook out his hand.

“Nope,” he said. “I guess not.”

“Please, Basil,” Amy said. “We have to turn around. I respect that you’re a store manager and you’ve been trained for these situations, but I’m scared, okay? I’m your employee and I’m frightened, and I’m asking for your help. Can we please turn around? Can we please find Trinity and Ruth Anne and get out of here?”

Basil hesitated, weighing the choice. Amy knew from taking the Shop Responsible test that Orsk managers had a responsibility to both store guests and store partners.

But what if a manager had to choose one over the other? What was the priority? These were questions the test hadn’t posed, and Basil was struggling.

“Tell you what,” he decided. “Let me just look around the corner. If I see Bedrooms, we’ll keep going. If I don’t, I promise we’ll turn around.”