The air seemed to disappear.
“What?”
“Not with you.”
She walked away.
I followed.
The passage ran behind the hotel rooms. Through small gaps in the wall, I could see thin strips of light from occupied suites.
I heard a television.
Someone laughing.
A toilet flushing.
The guests had no idea we were there.
“What is this place?” I whispered.
“Old service access. The hotel was built in 1928. Staff used these halls before the renovation.”
“Why are there openings into the rooms?”
