The floor didn’t just break—it disappeared. One second June stood on white marble, the next, the ground cracked under her with a sound like a mountain splitting apart. Dust blew up everywhere, blinding her. She dropped, stomach flipping, and fell straight into the dark.
She barely had time to scream, “Leo!” Her voice was sharp, full of terror.
She landed hard, bounced off what felt like old sacks, and rolled across cold stone. The air was so thick with dust it burned her lungs. Everything smelled like ancient paper. She pushed herself up, hands scraping the gritty floor. Above her, the “Star of Romano” statue dangled by thin wires, burning with an angry red light. The computer’s countdown kept going—she could feel its low vibration buzzing in her teeth.
“Mommy! Mommy!”
A tiny voice,
