Reyaclosedhereyes,"seeing"aslightlyplumpfiguremovingontheothersideofthewall.

        "Hey,whoareyou?"sheasked,calmbuttingedwithcuriosity.

        Thefootstepshalted.Afteralongpause,theydrewcloser,hesitatingatthedoor.Whenshedidn''tscream,thepersonfumbledwiththelockuntilitfinallyclickedopen.

        Reya''seyessnappedopen.Atall,shadowyfigurefilledthedoorway,backlitbyapaleglow.Evenagainstthelight,herinhumansightrecognizedhiminstantly.

        "Manager?"

        Themanpaused,thenchuckledashetuggeddownhismask."Sharp."

        Hesteppedin,shutthedoor,andflippedonaswitch.Fluorescentlightbuzzedtolife,revealingtheamusementparkmanager.

        Reya''sgazeswepttheroom—itlookedlikeacellarorbasement,withbareconcretewalls,nowindows,noventilation,staleairpressingclose.Shelayonaking-sizedmattress,agreenplasticcrateshovedbesideitlikeamakeshiftnightstand.

        Herwristsandankleswereboundwithclothstripstiedtochains,theendsanchoredintotheconcrete.Freshflecksofcementdustsprinkledthefloor—clearly,theanchorshadbeenrecentlyhammeredin.

        Themanagerdroppedabagontothecrate.Greasestainedtheplastic,andthesmelloftakeoutfilledtheair.

        Reya''sstomachbetrayedherwithaloudgrowl.

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