I uncapped it and drank the contents.

You only live once.

A FEW MINUTES later, I felt a spasm in my stomach. I’d been lying still, staring at the ceiling, drifting in and out of consciousness. Then all of a sudden my throat convulsed, and I was choking—gasping for air. I flipped onto my side, lifted the pillow, and vomited on the bed. Then I put the pillow back and lay down again, dizzy and confused.

My head wasn’t clear by any means, but there was an awareness there that hadn’t been present before.

I could land on a thought and follow it to its logical conclusion: Agatha had wanted me to throw up. And now I felt better. Agatha was helping me. She wanted to save me from her mother.

How nice, I thought. How lovely.

And then I fell asleep.

I woke when the sky was pink and raw—though I had no idea if it was dawn or dusk, and I could feel a difference in my body. Now with the most recent dose of tranquilizers purged from my system, the desire for survival was creeping back in. I really did kind of want to save myself . . . if it wasn’t too much trouble.

I mean, maybe it wouldn’t work. But it was worth trying.

I climbed out of bed. My muscles were tight and sore, my head thick and aching.

I could move, though. And that was something. I checked to make sure my phone was in my back pocket. Then I walked to the door. It was locked, but when I hip-checked it, it popped open. So Laura had only locked the bottom knob, which meant she didn’t consider me a flight risk anymore.

The hall was quiet, but I didn’t dare go down through the foyer.

I’ll be back for you, Ags, I thought. I won’t leave you here.

The back stairs were locked now.

But just outside those doors was a rusted metal hatch, built into the wall.

I remembered Barrett saying that there were little elevators for the servants to use for trays and luggage.

I pried open the hatch. It was a small box, and once I climbed inside, I would be in complete darkness. There were also a couple of very ominous-looking signs warning against putting any body parts inside of it.

But it was my only option.

Trying not to think about the story Barrett had told me—was it some poor housemaid losing a hand?—I crammed myself inside. It was open on one side, and there were metal cables—presumably attached to pullies. I grabbed one and pulled, and with a collection of squeaks and squawks, the box began to move. I lowered myself slowly and stopped when I heard the shelf beneath me hit something with a clunk.

There was another hatch here—I pushed it open and looked out.