Page 147 of The Girl Who Inherits the Dead

He’s hopeful. He’s actually hopeful.

Chance the catstares at them, wide eyed, as they pack Chloe's backpack, before he lets out a small, pitiful meow.

“Aww,” Gurlien says, then crouches next to him to pet his chin, and the cat preens against him. “I’m gonna…”

“What?” Chloe replies absentmindedly.

“I’m gonna leave the entire bag of food where he can reach it,” Gurlien says, unsteady. “And I’ll text Axel to come rescue him if he doesn’t hear back from us.”

In case they don’t come back.

Delina swallows, then crosses her arms. “We’re gonna make it out, Gurlien.”

“Obviously, yes,” he snips back, but still, a frown tugs on his face. “We might not be able to come back here, we might have to abandon town, I don’t want Chance to starve.”

Chance perks up his ears at hearing his name, then meows again.

“And now Chance is distressed because you’re upset,” Chloe chides, her voice fake and cheerful. “Look what you did, you upset the cat.”

“Still gonna do it,” Gurlien replies, shuffling for the bag of food from the top of the fridge.

42

In the end, the grand Toronto base looks more like a sprawling shipping center than anything sinister. Like the mega Walmart distribution hubs centered in the Midwest, completely unremarkable.

Gurlien’s information holds true, and they skirt the alarm runes easily, and Chloe’s guidance brings them right to an exhaust vent that’s obviously way too small for all of them to fit through.

It’s innocent enough for an entrance to a prison.

“And this leads to the cubical level?” Maison asks, skeptical.

The fact that this magical prison, where they kept Chloe locked away, has a cubical level is surreal.

But even magical prisons have bureaucracy.

“Yes,” Chloe says, nervy, and there’s one of the protection rings on each of her fingers in what’s almost certainly overkill. “See you in fifteen minutes at the bricks right there, I’m swooping by the evidence lockers then coming right out.”

Delina nods, standing back as Chloe cinches her backpack down tight against her body and fixing the bribed badge over her chest.

“You’ll do it in ten,” Gurlien replies dismissively. “This is child’s play for you, you’ve been doing things way more difficult since you were thirteen.”

“I know that,” Chloe shoots back. “I just…”

“Swore you’d never be here again?” Gurlien supplies, and Delina and Maison exchange a glance. “We know, and that’s not gonna mean that this bit isn’t going to be super easy.”

Chloe nods, and Gurlien raises an eyebrow at her.

“This is easy and you’re fine,” Gurlien says again. “I’m gonna time you.”

“Oh fuck off,” Chloe says, then adjusts her backpack again and focuses.

The brickwork wavers, unmoving, but the grate covering the vent bends, then goes limp, like it’s made out of noodles instead of metal, and Chloe breathes out, shaking the tension out of her hands.

“This is the easy part,” she whispers to herself, then, with a boost from Gurlien, pushes aside the vent and climbs in.

The air wavers again, before the metal snaps back into place, and her footsteps fade from hearing.

Gurlien dusts his hands off, then spins to Maison. “If you don’t thank her for this, I will punch you.”

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