The door to the room opens again, and a man I do not recognize comes to collect me. That man—Victor—said that we were waiting for our last guest, and all I can do now is believe that my love has arrived. He had toyed with my heart by telling me my mother and father are in the building, and after he left my room about three hours ago—a panicky guess—they were all I could think about. Somewhere in here, somewhere trapped in these same walls, my parents sit, alive. Once the first year had passed at grandmothers, I had given up waiting for them to come knocking on her door....