I arrive as the last tourist of the day heads out the front door. Perfect timing. Through the windows, I can see Reese starting her closing routine, switching off display lights and straightening brochure racks.

I step inside and wipe my boots on the welcome mat in a demonstrative way, causing Reese to give me another one of her signature eye rolls.

“Don’t lay it on so thick, Sawyer.”

I hold my hands up. “Hey, I’m just trying to save your floors from whatever I picked up on the trail today.”

“You’re insufferable,” she says with a laugh before flipping the sign on the door to “closed.”

I follow her to our usual study spot. “Thanks for staying late to help me cram.”

“Don’t thank me yet. We’re covering wildlife management protocols tonight, and they’re not exactly riveting.” She pulls out a chair, then pauses. “Actually, you know what? Let me grab some of the visual aids from the storage room. Might help if you can see what we’re talking about instead of just reading about it.”

“Visual aids?”

She nods. “Taxidermy specimens, habitat dioramas, that sort of thing. We use them for the school groups,” she explains, already heading toward a door at the back of the Visitor Center that I’ve never paid attention to before. “Come on, you can help me carry some of this stuff.”

The storage room is bigger than I expected, packed floor to ceiling with boxes, display cases, and what looks like half a forest worth of mounted animals. A black bear stands in one corner, forever frozen mid-growl. Elk antlers hang from hooks on the walls like some kind of hunting lodge fever dream. Even I’m a little intimidated by this eerie collection. I’ve come across my fair share of animals while hiking, but none of them were… dead.

“This is comprehensive,” I say, trying not to make eye contact with a particularly judgmental-looking mountain goat.

“Right? Most people don’t realize how much stuff we keep back here.” Reese is already digging through boxes labeled “Educational Materials.” She turns around. “Can you grab that case of bird specimens? The one on the shelf behind you?”

I turn to reach for it, and that’s when I hear the distinct click of the door shutting. We both freeze.

“Please tell me that door doesn’t automatically lock,” I say.

Reese’s face goes pale. “It shouldn’t.”

She rushes to the door, but no matter how many times she yanks the handle, it doesn’t budge.

“This is your fault!” Reese whirls around, hands on her hips, glaring at me like I personally engineered this disaster. “I told you to grab the bird specimens, not—” She stops mid-sentence, her face going from angry to horrified. “Oh. Oh, no.”

“Oh, no,what?”

“The security system.” She slaps her forehead. “The storage room automatically locks after closing hours. It’s to protect all the expensive equipment and specimens from theft.”

“You mean to tell me that people would want to steal these dead creatures?” I ask, horrified at the idea.

“That’s so not the point now, Sawyer!”

“You’re right. The point is, why you didn’t think to mention the security system trapping people in here before we headed into this room?”

“I forgot! I was focused on getting the visual aids for your studying, and I completely forgot we were past closing time.” She tries the handle again, more frantically this time. “This is a disaster. We’re trapped in here until morning when the cleaning lady comes in.”

“Morning?” My voice cracks a little. “As in, all night?”

“Unless someone comes looking for us, which they won’t because everyone thinks the visitor center is closed and empty. And you, well, sorry to say it so bluntly, but you don’t have anyone waiting for you at home either, do you?”

“No, but I have an early morning hike with a group tomorrow. If I don’t show, Knox will come and save us. Not that that will be necessary. We can call someone right now. Problem solved.”

I reach for my phone, then remember that it’s currently nothing but an expensive paperweight after falling into that beaver pond yesterday.

“Right,” I say slowly. “About that…”

Reese turns from where she’s been examining the door. “About what?”

“My phone is still completely dead from its swim in a pond.”