Laurie stopped short and stood in the doorway, staring. Four men were seated around the table, empty seats between each, as though they all wanted their own space or were wary of getting too close.

They looked… normal. She did not get the impression that they were denizens of the House, that they were manifestations or ghosts or Billington’s peers. They seemed more like her, and there was an almost uniform wariness in their expressions that led her to believe they were prisoners of the House as well.

She experienced a sudden exhilarating rush of energy. Ever since she’d arrived here, ever since Billington’s little speech, ever since she’d known she’d been lured back to stay and was not going to be allowed to leave, she’d felt uncharacteristically powerless. Both demoralized and dispirited. She’d tried her damnedest to find a way out of the House, to somehow contact the outside world. She’d even attempted one of Josh’s silly astral projection exercises in a vain effort to contact her brother. But nothing had worked, nothing had come of any of it, and she’d just about given up, resigning herself to the fact that the House was more powerful than she was.

But with five of them…

Five heads were better than one, as the saying went, and between them, they might be able to come up with an escape plan. She felt a renewed sense of hope as she looked at the men in front of her.

With a theatrical flourish, Billington introduced them, moving clockwise around the table. “This is Daniel Anderson, this is Norton Johnson, this is Stormy Salinger, and this is Mark McKinney.”

They all smiled at Laurie awkwardly, acknowledging her nodded greeting.

Billington bowed in her direction. “This, everyone, is Laurie Mitchell.”

Nods again.

The assistant looked happily around the dining room, and his smile broadened in a way that she found extremely unnerving. “We’re all together at last.” He bowed again. “I will prepare tonight’s repast and leave you kiddies alone to get acquainted.”

He retreated through the swinging doors into the kitchen, and the second he was out of the room, the five of them started talking. None of them were under the impression that they had really been left alone, that they were not being watched and spied upon, but that took a backseat to their more immediate and pressing concerns.

It was Stormy who was the first to articulate the question at the forefront of all of their minds: “What the fuck is going on here?”

They all began talking at once, and after several loud confusing minutes Laurie raised her hands and said, “Quiet! One at a time, please!”