Page 78 of My Cosplay Escape
“This way.”
“And where are we?” I ask, stepping into the padded cell I occupy as Catstrike.
“Catstrike’s cell. After everyone gets to stand and gawk, the strobes start. She disappears, usually through the same door we just walked through, as guests fumble around for this switch.”
“Then we come to Fair Play’s room, or Farris Cordelia Playdon, depending on what Vanessa is feeling.”
“Then Badpun,” I say.
“I have a manager watching Malum Escape feeds at all times. I have another two monitoring the traditional escape rooms.”
“It’s impressive.”
Adam is obviously pleased by my praise. “You should come see it with my cast. It is something else.”
“Have you gone through?”
“Oh, yeah. I’ve also failed to escape from my own escape rooms several times. You want to look at one?”
“Are we actually locked in?”
“No.”
“Could we be?”
Adam’s eyes go dark for a moment. Maybe he’s living out a kinky fantasy, or maybe he’s imagining the legal implications if a stunt like that were possible. “No. There’s no way. Come on. Let’s go to Osric Manor.”
We walk into a room that is decorated to the hilt.
I gawk at the detail: gilt frames on what look like honest-to-goodness original oil paintings, Persian rugs, leather sofas and chairs with scrolled feet and those tufted buttons on the back. “How did you—” I begin before the bookshelf catches my eye. Holy fudge. I slide a book off the shelf—beautiful, leather-bound, with swirling gold etchings on the binding. All the books look equally gorgeous.
“I grew up in Del Mar. People give this stuff away every five minutes because they’re redecorating. Wiring the piano was the hardest. Come on.” He pulls me over to the grand piano, and I follow all too willingly. “You’ve seenNightbat Begins?”
He plays three keys on the piano, and a closet opens. “Not an entrance to an underground cave, but cool, right?”
I examine the circuit breaker in the closet. “So you flip the switches?” I nearly jump when Adam reaches around me. He’s standing so close.
“Well, you find the clues that tell you what order to flip the switches.” Adam flips them. “And they unlock the safe.”
“What safe?”
“The one behind the portrait.” He rests an elbow against the bookshelf and leans his head against his open palm. “You dip the scarf in the fishbowl.”
I’ve peered inside the safe to see a scarf among a pearl necklace and passports. “You do not.”
“Come here. Check this out,” Adam says, taking a seat on the sofa.
I poke around some more and find a box of cards in the pocket of a card table before I join him on the couch. “What? Spring-loaded?” I ask, sliding the cards out of the box. Maybe there is a clue tucked in with them.
“Nope. Just a couch. And now you’re sitting on it with me. Don’t we have cake?”
I pull out the glass jars from my bag and the forks and napkins from my hoodie pocket. To say this cake is yummy is too modest of a description. “What did you find?” Adam asks, licking his fork, and goldfish, I think I’ve found paradise in this Black Forest cake.
I give my head a little shake. A cake coma is approaching. I pick up the cards and shuffle them. It’s the strangest deck I’ve ever seen. “Are these tarot cards?”
Adam turns crimson. “Where’d you find those?”
“They were in the pocket drawer of your card table.”
