Both sets of doors opened and shut.
Goldie sighed. “Fine, I’ll stop asking direct murder-related questions. But since you want me to sleepwalk, and if you can’t tell me if I’m safe while I do it…” She hesitated, then asked, “If… someone were to follow me, would I be safer?”
Theyes-doors gave a brisk snap.
Nell sat forward so quickly she nearly spilled her wine. “That’s it. We’re taking notes.” She grabbed her phone and began typing furiously, thumbs flying. “Interrogation log. This is official now.”
Goldie groaned, clutching a pillow to her chest like armor. “Who should go with me? Can Nell go with me?”
The right-hand balcony doors creaked open and shut.No.
“Hey!” Nell snapped, glaring at the walls. “Just like that?No?”
Again, the doors shut decisively.No.
Goldie winced. “Ouch. Brutal. Can I take Sig?” she tried hopefully.
No.
“To be fair…” Nell tipped her head, considering. “Sig probably wouldn’t let you out of the building in the first place. You know how he is. Ever since we figured out how to avert Dooms, he treatseverythinglike a potential apocalypse. He’d pin you to the floor before letting you walk into danger?—”
“And not in the fun way,” Goldie added, completely deadpan.
Yes,the building agreed.
Goldie puffed out her cheeks. “Okay. What about… Ezra?”
The right-hand doors snapped closed so fast it made the curtains flutter.No.
“Thought as much,” Goldie muttered. “Mr. Caracas? Thess? Hell, even Mr. Lyle?”
Thenodoors didn’t quite open and close, but the hinges creaked as if to say,are you being serious right now?
“We’re not getting anywhere with this line of questioning.” Nell put a steady hand on Goldie’s arm, suddenly all business. “Time to redirect the interrogation.”
Goldie squinted at her. “Redirect the… oh, my gods. You’ve been watching way too many murder mysteries with Mr.Caracas. That phrase is way too sober for how many glasses you’ve had.”
Yes.
The two women both went quiet. Nell furrowed her brow, chewing on her lip. Goldie reached for the white wine box and topped off her glass with unsteady precision.
“Are…” Nell squinted at the ceiling. “Are you the one making Goldie sleepwalk?”
The room stilled. Both women leaned forward, waiting.
Nothing.
“Building?” Goldie prompted.
Silence.
“Oh my gods,” Nell whispered. “Are we being ghosted?”
Still nothing.
Goldie gave a long, dramatic wail and slid down the couch cushions until she was practically on the floor.“Nooooooo.Don’t edge me like this! Come on, building!”
At last, a faint ripple passed through the walls—barely there, a vibration like a cat flicking its tail against your leg.
