s Wy

a whip. Abbey jerked in her seat, h

s regarding the Woodward Trust case study," Pro

course. The case stud

contingent on the life in being plus twenty-one years, unless.

y to join us in the present, Miss Wynn. The

aydreaming. She was calculating how many shifts she needed at

ly, trying to escape before anyone could talk to

face. It was a digital invitation, black an

ed walking.

ncing on the balls of her feet. "It's impossible to get in. It's owned

blood drain fro

n, no?" Liz aske

aid, clutching her bag st

n, Abbey. You might meet someone who can ac

bey said firm

art pounding. She couldn't go to A

roken, spewing steam every ten minutes. Around 8 PM, a group of gir

w. She took their orders, st

Abbey?" one of the

k," anothe

blonde hair tapped the screen. "Keep the

dollar tip on a t

es, hot and stinging. But she didn't tear it up. She couldn't afford pride. She put

ent, it was midnight. The place was em

ss. Abbey made a cup of instant noodles and sat on the couch, wrapped in a bla

rifte

te she had written. "I can't do this anymore," it said. His face crumpled, then hardened into something unr

ke up sc

hing her shirt. The apartment wa

loor. It was vibrating so hard

ph

bbed it.

panicked. The background noise was a

you?" Abbey stood up, t

k her phone. They won't let us leave the booth." Sophie

ne wen

No cameras allowed. Security that answered only to the payroll. If she calle

e with access. So

contacts. Her thumb hov

the o

ated that she was about to use

hit

st ring. He sounded surprised, and

er voice trembling. "I

vanished, replaced by cur

ult. They're in trouble.

led. "Okay. I'm ten minu

orm. She was walking straight into the lion's den. And she