The lifesize sketch of me floated above a low pedestal, framed in delicate gold leaf. It turned slowly as I tried to walk around it, always denying me a view of its other side. The drawing itself was split in half: Rachel-from-Earth formed the left side, with a half-pair of glasses covering a dull eye and an oversized tracksuit pressed into the service of hiding all her flaws. The right half was the embodiment of Captain Lightbringer—fully armored, sharp-eyed, lips pursed. The line dissecting them was labeled, ‘What the hell happened?’

  Well, gee Nora… What didn’t happen?

  I glanced at Olethros, who was still standing exactly where we had arrived, his arms folded and tail twitching just ever so slightly.

  His eyes opened slowly to meet mine.

  “What do you think’s going on here?” I asked.

  The corner of his mouth curved. “This place,” he said, gesturing with wide arms, “is not a one I was ever meant to see.” He paused and took a step forward. “But now that we’re alone here…”

  Seriously, now is not the time!

  He winked at me just as the entire paper vault quaked for a few moments. A few crumpled wads of paper shot from the white ether beyond us. He dodged all but the last one, which hit him square in the face.

  “Ah. Pity. I suppose we are not,” he corrected, picking up his paper ball assailant and flattening it to read.

  “Yes, yes,” he then said aloud, flicking his tail. “I shall keep my heckling to a respectful minimum.”

  The paper in his hands shimmered.

  “I do not know what ‘Vegas’ means in this context.”

  The paper darkened.

  “Ah. Yes. Everything here is confidential.”

  A pen appeared in front of him, hovering.

  “You won’t trust a verbal agreement? My my.”

  He signed the paper, though not before waiting for me to roll my eyes at him, like it was all just a game.

  “Well, it is,” he replied as the paper and pen faded away. “Though it hardly constitutes one of those escape rooms you used to complain about. I don’t think there will be too many distractor clues for the finding.”

  “How are you reading my thoughts—”

  I gasped.

  No more hachimaki!

  “I’m not reading it; you’re mentally shouting at me. Think softer if you don’t want me to hear.”

  “How do I even begin to… You know what? Forget it. This isn’t about me!”

  Olethros nodded, the smile fading. “You’re right. It’s about what Nora wants—or perhaps needs—to show you.” He held out his hand. “Are you ready?”

  “Yes.” I grabbed it. “But where do we start?”

  A red thread shot out of the pedestal, leading to one of the hastily scribbled doors. A sticky note tacked to its frame read, ‘What a Loser.’

  I walked over to the door with Olethros and grasped the handle, feeling a vague sense of pain blooming from under my palm. The paper door crinkled, then swung inward. The brilliant white beyond it faded as a familiar, aggressively fluorescent yellow tile replaced it.

  Our high school's bathroom?!

  The far wall was lined with sinks and a giant, clouded mirror. I turned, and there was a row of stalls, with just one closed. It was marked Out of Order with a crooked sign taped across its door. The stall door wavered, then faded, showing a young Nora sitting cross-legged on top of the toilet, her phone clenched in her hand.

  What is she hiding from?

  A loud thud came from the far end as the door to the restroom swung open.

  Nora went rigid.

  A younger version of me walked in, heading straight to the last sink.

  “Okay,” Young Rachel muttered, bracing both hands on the counter. “You can do this. First day of school. Above all else…” She swallowed. “Don’t stick out, you hear me? Don’t be yourself. Don’t get involved! Keep your head down and your mouth shut until you figure out how things work here. Okay, Rachel?”

  The scene shifted back to Nora in the stall, whose eyes were as wide as moons.

  “What a loser,” she mouthed, exaggerating every word.

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  Olethros began to tremble, his free hand covering his mouth. “Pfffttt..!”

  The restroom door slammed open again, and three girls walked in, their obnoxious, high-pitched laughter rattling the acoustic space.

  The toxic trio of tyranny.

  “Oh fuck,” I swore under my breath. “Okay, okay, it’s fine, I get it! First impressions are subject to context. No harm, no foul. But we don’t need to watch the rest of this, right?”

  Mandy, the ringleader, had her phone in her hand, already recording. “Hey, can you believe that little gremlin invited us to her birthday party?”

  Nora made a silent gasp.

  The gremlin they were referring to back then… that was her?

  Those fucking bitches!

  Sarah snorted, pulling Mandy’s arm so she’d appear in the picture. “Who even has a party in a diner?”

  “Poor orphans, I guess!” Theresa quipped as they swiveled the camera to get a reaction shot. All three of them continued to laugh.

  Inside the stall, Nora went rigid, her grip on her phone tightening as tears spilled freely.

  Mandy swiped at her phone screen to lock it, then glanced at the others. “You guys said yes, right?”

  The others stared at her in surprise.

  “Why would we set foot in a diner?” Theresa asked.

  “Oh, we won’t,” Mandy answered with a nasty laugh. “I’ll send my brother. He can record her face when no one shows up.”

  They howled like harpies.

  The scene expanded, and my younger self was already moving, not that I had any inclination to stop her.

  “Hey,” young Rachel snapped. “Just decline it. Don’t be needlessly cruel.”

  Sarah stepped in front of my past self as Mandy started recording. “Mind your own damn business, bitch.”

  I didn’t even last five minutes listening to myself.

  Olethros squeezed my hand once as the other two surrounded me.

  “Ah…” I murmured. “I’m okay. This isn’t my proudest moment, that’s all…”

  See, heroes aren’t supposed to throw the first punch. But you need to understand that I wasn’t in a position to take a few good hits. First, bathrooms don’t have soft spots; that makes them too hard to clean. And physically speaking, I was probably a glass cannon back then, so I didn’t wait my turn.

  Young Rachel lunged, first slamming Sarah sideways into one of the stall walls. Theresa was driven into the corner of the sink, but it was Mandy’s phone that my past self was really after. Ever the instigating coward, Mandy jumped back, but not before young Rachel caught her by the elbow.

  “Fuck, get off of me, you ugly ass cow!” Mandy shrieked after Rachel drove her into the towel dispenser.

  “Who is she to talk?” Olethros said with a sniff. “Black war paint was so last century.”

  I turned to him as the scuffle scene ensued. “War paint? Oh, their makeup…”

  “That is make up?” he said mildly, just loud enough over the screams. “I thought you said it was skin spackle to make you look attractive.”

  “Well… everyone has their own tastes,” I murmured, relieved by his intentional distraction.

  Young Rachel had Mandy on the ground by this point, twisting her arm behind her back. Sarah and Theresa had stopped their attack, surrendering to their leaders’ shrieks.

  “Tell your malodorous mustelids here to cancel the party prank,” Rachel snarled, yanking Mandy’s shoulder backwards. “Or I’ll break it.”

  “Fuck, fuck just do it!” Mandy screamed.

  Theresa was already texting, her hands shaking. “We did it, just let her go!”

  Rachel gave Mandy one final rough shove downward before standing up. “You better not be lying. I’ll know.”

  “This isn’t over, fat ass!” Mandy howled as the two pulled her to her feet.

  I tilted my head.

  Huh. It wasn’t as fat as I remembered.

  The three stumbled as young Rachel let them leave. As soon as the door closed, her righteous face melted into stunned fear.

  “Shit shit shit,” she said to herself before scrambling to the door. “Shit!”

  She held it shut for a minute with her body, then peered out, took a deep breath, and ran off.

  Nora waited. Then she slowly stood, blinking several times. She dismissed a text message, then pulled her phone close to her lips, her finger pressed to its side button.

  “Athena,” she whispered, “look up ‘malodorous mustelid.’”

  “Three results found,” her phone replied. “Do you want to load the first result, ‘The Last Rae of Hope’?”

  Who else was using the phrase malodorous mustelid on the internet?!

  Before we heard Nora’s inevitable answer, the bathroom scene peeled away, yellow tiles fading to reveal the original room. A second red thread had appeared, winding through scattered scraps of paper toward another door. This one was neatly drawn, its lines worked over until it shone brighter than anything else around it. The doorframe was labeled, “I just love that story.”

  I rubbed my right temple. “Why do I have a feeling that’s not the truth?”

  “Pleasant falsehoods require a certain polish,” Olethros replied knowingly.

  With my hand on the handle, the door swung open before I could push it.

  We were greeted with endless echoes of dull roars. A hundred overlapping conversations converged with sneakers squealing against the polished gymnasium floors. Kids stomped up the metallic bleachers, their rumbling filling in any potential pauses.

  Our fated meeting during a school assembly. Except now I knew it had been fabricated.

  There I was, slouched a few rows up on the far side in the middle of a sea of no one. A hoodie half hid my chin-length pink hair, and my phone was crammed in front of my face. It was as if my entire being was silently screaming to please leave me alone.

  Nora was all the way at the top, eyes locked onto me. With a deep breath, she descended, swooping in to startle young Rachel. The scene zoomed in to capture her introduction.

  “The Last Rae of Hope!” she declared, plopping down next to her. “I just love that story! Did you get to the part where they meet Oliver?”

  Young Rachel froze like a meerkat for a moment. “Ah! I—”

  “Right, right,” Nora interjected. “No spoilers! Who’s your favorite character?”

  Rachel looked away, her face turning a painful crimson. “Um… I like them all?”

  “Yeah, but I mean, who’s the best one?”

  Rachel quickly put her phone away. “It’s just a story…”

  “I like Rae,” Nora chattered on. “Don’t you think it’s nice to see a strong female lead who isn’t afraid to get her hands dirty?”

  “Maybe…” Rachel murmured. “But so much pressure. She’s just a kid like us.”

  “She can handle it!” Nora smiled brightly. “What’s your name?”

  “…Rachel.”

  “Rachel? Rachel! Really?!” Nora started to laugh loudly.

  Young Rachel turned tense. “What’s so funny about my name?”

  “Rae is short for Rachel! Isn’t that amazing?”

  “It is?” Young Rachel blinked, looking mortified.

  “Yep. You’re Rae for sure!”

  “No I’m not! I’m Rachel—”

  “You two are causing a disruption!” A teacher yelled, even though dozens were committing far worse crimes. “Principal’s office, now!”

  “The principal’s office again…” Young Rachel sighed as she started to descend the stadium steps.

  “Ah, don’t worry, Rae! Your ol’ pal Ele-, I mean, Nora will take the blame for this one!” She slapped a friendly hand on Young Rachel’s back as they trudged towards the exit.

  Young Rachel turned to look at her. “Your name’s… Nora?”

  “Yeah,” Nora answered as the scene started to vanish. “Accept no substitutes!”

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