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Right.
It’s only when we reach the ground floor that Cora reminds me we don’t have all the time in the world in here. “Security’s going to start their patrol soon–at around nine thirty.”
I glance at the time on my phone. That’s an hour away still. “Okay–we should probably get out a good half-hour before that, just in case.”
“Probably.”
I sense a note of regret in her voice. Is she disappointed this expedition is almost over? I am. I don’t want it to end, even though I’m feeling slightly fuzzy around the edges with the stuffiness of the air.
I’m just putting my phone away when I see the little red dot over my email. I glance at Cora. She’s peering in the dark closet of the room we’re in, her back to me.
I tap the mail icon.
It’s an email from the London paper, as promised. I scan it, a sinking feeling landing in my chest. They want me in Boston tomorrow night, to take photos of a political rally they suspect will become violent.
We chose you first for a reason, Galloway.
Dread crawls over me. I have to make a decision about this job tonight, or they’ll take it as a straight no.
We’re in Room 110 now, and the dark orange and pink of the sunset has begun streaming in the dirt-streaked windows. I take more pictures of this room than I have of the others. The lighting is perfect, and this room is one of the more interesting ones, because its walls are scrawled with old graffiti. Cora kneels down and traces her fingers over a heart with a pair of initials inside. There’s a date under the heart.
“These people were in love,” she says. “Fifty years ago, in this very spot.”
For the first time tonight, I turn the camera on Cora. “May I?” I ask, my voice rougher than I expect it to be.
She smiles and nods. The shots, when I peer quickly at the screen on the back of my camera, are stunning, and not through any skill of mine. It’s all Cora, her face almost melancholy.
“Who do you think they were?” she asks.
“Not Eleanor and her lover,” I snap another photo. “The initials are wrong—no E’s anywhere.”
Cora stares at the heart. “I hope they had a happy ever after.” She looks over at me, and when I take the shot, I hold my breath.
My heart feels like it cracks at that moment. “The happiest,” I whisper.
I lower the camera. I know without looking it’s going to be the best one of the night.
* * *
When we step out into the darkened corridor, Cora shines her light along the numbers on the doors.
It’s only when we go past room 116 that I pause. “Turn your light back this way?” I ask.
She points it in the direction we came. Room 112 is the next door.
“There’s no room 114,” I say. My skin prickles. Cora’s hand slips into mine, but this time, it’s not light and loose. She grips it hard.
“Are you sure that was the number?”
“No, but I saw it a couple of times.”
Just then, there’s a loud clicking sound at the far end of the hallway.
A light appears in our direction. “Hey!” A voice calls.
“Oh shit!” Cora squeaks.
“Come on!” I hiss, grabbing the light off her head and flicking it off.
