“You want me to go first?” I squeak. “Into the murder basement?”
He sighs. “It’s not a ‘murder basement.’”
“That’s exactly what someone with a murder basement would say.”
His hand touches the small of my back and applies the gentlest pressure. “Go.”
I clench my teeth. Be brave, Rae, I tell myself. Then I go.
One foot finds the first step. Another. Another.
The flagstones are slippery and dipped in the center from centuries of use. I keep one hand on the cold wall for balance as we descend into outer space. Behind me, Lukas’s footsteps blanket mine, heavy and unhurried.
This is it, I think. This is how I die.
At least I had a good last meal.
The darkness presses against my eyes. I can’t see where I’m going. In fact, I can’t see anything at all except the faint outline of my own han
