The lockers were rusted, the linoleum floors cracked and curling at the edges. One of the ceiling tiles in the east corridor had finally given up, crashing down sometime last night and scattering asbestos across the floor like dirty snow.

School had been called off for the day.

Yuri sat cross-legged on a broken trophy case, fiddling with his lighter. Quinn stood near the entrance to the band room, staring at nothing.

A new door had appeared.

It was at the far end of the hall, where the water fountains used to be. Red. Old. Lined with rust along the hinges.

None of them had seen it before.