“Now, escape,” he says.

Escaping zip ties is something these kids probably learned in preschool, and I’m glad Allard brought me up to speed. When I first tried this a couple weeks ago, I wasn’t able to create enough momentum to break the ties, but practice has paid off, and I have the bruises to prove it. Raising my arms above my head, I yank them down hard so my elbows split to either side of my body. The force almost knocks the wind out of me, but the zip ties pop off.

“Excellent. Pass.” His voice betrays no emotion. Turning on his heel, he walks to a curtain at the side of the platform. If he was wearing a cape, he’d have made sure it swung out behind him in a wide arc. “Come here and bring your things with you.” His index finger curls with the suggestion I follow.

Collecting my backpack from the table, I meet Rayelle’s wide eyes. My throat goes dry at the terror reflected there, but I dutifully obey Weiss.

As I move the heavy brocade curtain aside, my stomach constricts at what awaits. Before me, a narrow plank juts off the side of the platform. My knees go weak at the sight of it bouncing in the breeze. Lacking guardrails, it gives way to a two-hundred-foot drop-off on either side.

“Step into the harness, please.” Weiss holds out a set of canvas straps held together with a metal ring. “You may only use what you carry on your person. Leave your pack here and pick it up when you return.” He gestures to my burglary kit, adding, “If you return,” and punctuating it with a tight-lipped smile.

My throat struck silent, I nod. Setting my pack down, I step into the harness and take inventory of everything I possess, having no idea if it’ll help me escape whatever awaits. Allard taught me to tie my shoes with rope-cutting paracord and put my lock-picking kit in my cargo pocket, but…

All business, he clips a cord to the harness and handcuffs my hands in front of me before stepping aside. “You’ll need to escape the cuffs. To the edge.”

Handcuffs? Allard taught me handcuffs, but what do I do again? My mind goes blank.

“Faster!”

Startled, I inch onto the plank, my limbs shakier than the trees. I move forward until he tells me to stop. My toes flush with the edge, I focus on the horizon. Before me, the Sequoia National Forest sprawls to distant purple mountains, the treetops disappearing into the mist. Not wanting to risk dizziness that will disorient me, I keep my focus on the horizon.

Beneath my feet, the plank bounces with the weight of Weiss’s approaching steps, upsetting my balance. Trying to hold steady, I pretend none of this is real. I’m in a virtual game room. If I jump, I’ll land on a trampoline. It’s all an algorithm, a mind trick.

“Everything that awaits will be much scarier than this,” he whispers in my ear, sending a cold shiver down my spine. Then he shoves me off the plank.