Slowly I open my eyes wider, and the room starts to come into focus. And then I see Claus’s face, less than two feet away from mine. There’s a faint smile on his lips.

I have to get away. Now.

Why won’t my arms work?

“Sorry.” Claus nods at the headboard. “I had to take precautions.”

I follow his gaze and see two ropes around my wrists. He’s tied me up.

“I’d rather not, but it’s for your own safety.”

Panic overwhelms me. I start tugging like crazy on the ropes. They cut painfully into my wrists.

“Hey, hey, calm down.” Claus tries to soothe me. “There’s no point in struggling. You’ll just hurt yourself.”

My eyes shoot around the room. There are papers and envelopes all over—and a stack of those silver domes. There’s some kind of plan hanging on the wall, but I can’t make out what the writing says. Photos of Kate, Fender, and Lucas.

Claus really is Room Service. The evidence floods over me.

He seemed so nice, so decent. How can he have played a double role without me suspecting anything?

This is like the lair of a serial killer.

Is he actually going to murder me?

I think about the glass of water.

Why did I drink it?

I tug the ropes again.

“Hey, no.” Claus puts a hand on my forehead and gently pushes me back onto the mattress. Under his hand I feel a blazing pain.

“You’re bleeding,” he says. “You have a head wound.”

A head wound? So that’s where the pain is coming from. What did he do to me?!

“Help!” My voice rasps and I cough. I have to shout louder. So loudly that the whole hotel can hear me.

I take a deep breath to try again, but then I feel Claus’s hand on my mouth.

“Don’t you dare.” Claus’s voice suddenly doesn’t sound calm or friendly anymore. “If you scream, I’ll have to hurt you again. And I don’t want to do that.”

I stare into his crazy eyes. Isolde must have been so afraid of him.

“So you’ll keep your mouth shut?” he asks.

I can hardly even nod.

Claus slowly takes his hand away. “Great. Then we can finally talk.”

Fender

Kate isn’t speaking. She’s lying on our bed, facing away from me. I know she’s crying, but I don’t have the energy to comfort her.

Lucas is slumped, defeated, in one of the chairs, staring into space.

We left the bear in the room next door, but it still feels like it’s here in front of me. The image is burnt into my memory.

An eye for an eye.

“Why did you leave her on her own?”

Lucas looks up. “Stop it.”

“Stop what?”

“Stop blaming me. It’s ridiculous.”