He was here. Fender was here, but he went away.

He left me behind.

“W-we have to go,” I stammer. “There’s a fire….”

“There is no fire,” Claus snaps. “It was that friend of yours.”

The wailing alarm stops as suddenly as it started. The echo rings inside my head.

It takes a moment for my ears to get used to the silence, but then I can hear the usual sounds again.

There are lots of voices out on the sidewalk, like people standing in line for a concert. And then I hear one voice above all the others.

“Okay, people. Everyone back inside. It was a false alarm. Someone pressed the button just for fun. We’ll find out who it was. On behalf of the Riverside, I offer my sincere apologies for the inconvenience.”

Claus was right. There is no fire. Could it really be true that Fender pressed the button? But why?

Claus pulls one of his suitcases out from under the bed. He has a few of them, as if he’s packed for a year.

I notice that my muscles automatically tense up.

I’m only just getting started.

What was Claus talking about? What’s he planning?

I move my wrists back and forth. There’s a little play in the right one.

If I’m careful, Claus won’t notice. And if I get one hand free, I can free the other.

“Hey!”

The blood freezes in my veins.

“No funny business.” Claus looks at me threateningly. “Got it?”

I nod, my breath racing.

“Great. Then I’ll get it all ready.” Claus bends over his suitcase again.

Get it all ready? What does he mean? A shiver runs down my spine.

Where are Fender and the others? Maybe they’ll just abandon me to my fate.

“Okay.” Claus stands up. He’s holding something black. “Sorry, but I want you to have the same surprise as your friends.”

Before I can protest, Claus pulls a trash bag over my head.

Fender

The bathroom mirror shows a version of me that I don’t recognize. My pupils are dilated, like I’ve been living on coffee for days. I’ve pulled my hair into a tight bun again.

“Ready.” I leave the bathroom and look at Lucas, who is lying on our bed. He’s unbuttoned his shirt, and his hair is a mess.

“Why didn’t you get ready?”

Lucas sits up. “I’m not taking part in this.”

“You have to.”

“I don’t have to do anything. I’m done with this. Screw that Claus guy. I’m not following his orders.”

I can hardly believe what he’s saying.

“What about Linnea? This isn’t a game, Lucas!”

“I know that!” Lucas comes to face me. “You don’t need to keep repeating it.”

“If you like her as much as you claim, you wouldn’t say that.”

Lucas’s expression hardens. “Take it back.”