Karina and Lamar walk down the flights stairs with me. We tread quietly, like the protagonists of a horror movie. The fluorescent light above gets dimmer as we descend. It flickers a few times, as if it’s threatening to shut itself off completely.
We make our way to the bottom floor and walk down the damp, mildew-filled hallway.
“You’re sure we aren’t heading into a trap?” Lamar asks.
“Seventy-five percent sure we aren’t heading into a trap,” I say.
“Got it.”Continue reading