The elevator comes to a rocking halt and I exit, walking toward Molly’s room. More strange video game characters stare at me from cracks in their doors; cockroaches scuttle and scatter as I approach.

I knock on Molly’s door and wait, listening to the creaks and groans of this strange place.

The door opens and Molly smiles up at me.

“Hi, Luka,” she says, and some words flash up in my mind, something about getting out quickly, but I can’t quite grab them.

“Molly, listen,” I say, “I’m sorry about … about Dad. And I’m sorry you had to find out that way.”

“Oh, that,” she says, her smile faltering and then reappearing on her face. “It’s terrible, terrible news, but I think I knew, deep down, that there’s no way he could have survived.”

This is all wrong, I think. Why is she suddenly so peaceful? How has she so quickly come to terms with … with … ? But the thought trails off as my own sense of calm returns.

“This whole thing is so terrible, isn’t it?” I say.

“Terrible,” she replies, “just horrible and terrible. So many people dead.”

“So many,” I reply, and way, way back in my mind alarm bells are ringing; something is wrong.

Once you’re in … get out quickly … get out quickly … get out …

“I think,” I say, my voice so placid, “I think we have to go, Molly.”

“Go? Why would we go?” she asks. “Everything is so nice here. All our friends are here.”

“All our friends are here …” I repeat, and then I think of Pander and Igby and Akimi and Pod.

“All our friends,” Molly repeats, “and we can dance and listen to the music, and be with our friends.”

“Molly,” I say, my voice now slow and dreamy, “do you remember what you told me when you got into the chamber?”

“No,” she replies, smiling. “What did I say?”

“I can’t remember … get out, I think. I think you said get out quickly.”

“Why would I say that?” she asks, a look of concern carving itself into her face. “We’re safe here, Luka; we’re safe and we have everything we need.”

“But me and Malachai,” I say, pointing toward the elevator, “we were going to leave.”

“Why?”

I think about this, I really think about it. “I can’t remember.”

“It’s so dangerous out there, Luka. The real world took our mother and our father; it killed everyone we love. We’re safe in here, though. Safe in Purgatory.”

“You’re right,” I say, and the faraway voice is too far away to hear now. “You’re right. We’re safe in here. I have to get Malachai before he leaves! It’s dangerous out there.”