He nods upward. I follow his gaze to the building behind him. Above the entrance, partially hidden by scaffolding and shadow, a sign I hadn’t clocked yet bears three words in blocky white letters:
My brain goes blank for a second and then catches up all at once. “Wait. This is— Are you serious?”
“Know it? I’ve wanted to see this for years!” I’m holding the mask against my chest now, and I can hear the excitement in my own voice. I sound like a gleeful little girl on a field trip. “It’s an immersive theater production based on Macbeth. You wear masks and wander through a massive warehouse and the actors perform all around you and you follow whoever you want. It’s been running since, what, 2011? Rae and I have talked about going a hundred times, but something always came up.”
Kir is watch
