“Are you out of your mind?” The man scrambles to his feet and shoves me hard into the doorpost. “What’s the deal?”

“Sorry.” Linnea quickly steps forward. “It was a misunderstanding.”

“Say what?” The man furiously straightens his jacket. One of the buttons is missing. I can see it on the floor by my feet.

“First I find broken glass all over my room. Then I see that someone’s been at my minibar. And now this!”

“Broken glass?” echoes Linnea, looking past the man and into the room.

“Yes, glass.” The man’s eyes are ablaze. “And what are you looking at?”

“Is this…your room?”

“Yes, of course this is my room! Are you two leaving now? I’m calling Security.”

Linnea grabs me by the arm and pulls me down the hallway. We keep running until we get back to the stairs—and then she stops.

“Why didn’t you listen?” she fires at me.

Nervously, I crack my fingers. I just attacked someone for the third time today. And it was the wrong person. I’m a ticking time bomb, and I keep going off.

“What am I supposed to do if you send me to the wrong room?” I say.

“That was the right room! I was just in there with Claus.”

I shake my head. “Then how come that man…”

“Didn’t you hear what he said? About finding a broken glass? And about someone using his minibar?”

“So?”

“Claus offered me a drink and tried to insist that I drink it before I left. When I didn’t, he must have gotten so mad that he smashed it.”

“Why would he get that mad at you for turning down a drink?”

As I say the words, it dawns on me. A wave of nausea washes over me, and I desperately try to swallow it away.

Would he really go so far as to put something in Linnea’s drink?

What if Linnea had actually drunk it? None of us knew she was in his room.

Where is he now? That wasn’t his room, so he could be anywhere. He can see us, but we can’t see him.

I realize that Linnea is trying not to cry and I resist the urge to put my arm around her.

“Hey.” Instead, I give her a nudge. “It’s going to be okay. We’re going to get him.”

Linnea

“You guys did what?” Lucas stares at us. “Have you completely lost it? ‘Don’t go looking for me.’ How clear do the rules need to be?”

“Wouldn’t you have done exactly the same?” I ask. “We had to give it a try.”

“He didn’t open the door?” Kate guesses.

“It wasn’t his room.” I feel nauseous again. “He took me to someone else’s room.”

I look around. It’s just like Fender said. Claus could be anywhere. Even here in the bar, I don’t feel safe.