“Is she the kind of girl who would be on the roof?” Penelope asks.
“Yes.”
“Is she the kind of girl who would be in the basement?” Penelope asks.
“I don’t think so.”
We’re in the stairwell. Downstairs is always dead. Upstairs is where Ashley and Chad went to dance. Two more floors above that, of offices and empty space. Not like Mead Research offices. More like probly the offices that a zookeeper would work in. If you go all the way up the stairs, through another gate, sometimes the door to the roof is unlocked.
Penelope slips through the gate behind me. We’re each carrying three Jansport packs so it’s a multi-step process.
“Just leave em there.”
“Sure?”
“Yeah.”
We leave em all by the gate, some on this side, some on that. Penelope and I hold hands going up the stairs. There’s space between the slats. The stairs looks like they’re going to fall down.
The roof is unlocked.
I push open the door.
It’s empty; no one’s there.