The little fox looked like it was smiling.  “This hotel contains many doors to many places, many of which lead to Incarnata.  Use one of them and I will find you.”

That gave me a new worrying thought.  “But what about this place?  Even if I don’t get arrested or something after all of this, how would I get back into the hotel after two people were killed here?  And what’s to stop random people from just accidently going across like I did?”

Harvey stood up and stretched slowly.  “Just like you wound up here this time, I don’t think you’ll find it difficult to return.  Things will bend to pull you back if you want to return.  As for the doors, I wouldn’t worry overly much.  From what I know of the hotel, which is admittedly spotty, its magic only worked if Lamark willed it to work.”  He turned to look at me meaningfully.  “Given that she is trapped in Incarnata, and no one else of your world has just stumbled into my Realm from the hotel in the last few years, it would seem to me that the magic will only work for Lamark or her blood-kin.”

I let out a sigh.  “Goddamnit.  Okay.  I get what you’re saying.  But I really do need to get out of here.  Is there something special I need to do, or can I just close the door?  You won’t be trapped in the hotel room or something, right?”

The fox shook as it chuckled.  “No, I won’t be.  Thank you for asking.  Be safe, Samantha, and good luck.  I hope we will meet again.”

I stepped into the hallway and gave Harvey one last look before shutting the door.  I was surprised to realize that, along with everything else I was thinking and feeling, I was going to miss him.  “Yeah, me too, Harvey.  Me too.”

****

It has been four months since I left the Imago Hotel.  I was questioned by police, and I told them I was attacked by a man, but I didn’t know who they were.  Never got a good look at them.  And when they told me that Jefferson and one of the plumbers had been murdered, I tried my best to act surprised.

To his credit, Mike Bramford never blamed me.  I think because he was too busy blaming himself.  I’ve kept in touch with him, and for awhile I was very worried.  I talked to him on the phone a month after the funerals, and he sounded drunk and so deep down a well that I thought he might never climb out again.  But last week I found out he was moving his family closer to his sister and starting fresh.  It wasn’t a happy ending, but maybe it was at least the start of a new happier beginning.

For my part, I spent the next few days after Jefferson’s funeral trying to figure things out.  It wasn’t that I doubted what had happened, but I still needed to decide what it meant.  What I should do with everything I had learned, if anything.