I HADN’T AT all been sure about what Sinclair was planning, but I know I hadn’t expected this. We were standing in front of an entrance to some shady, underground casino that was invitation only. The only reason I was able to discern this casino was shady and underground was because it was being held in what was, up until recently, an abandoned warehouse. I know for a fact this warehouse used to be abandoned because I would pass through here every day on my way to RLU, glancing at the cluster of abandoned warehouses passively as I shoveled whatever McDonald’s breakfast I’d bought that day into my mouth and desperately tried to get to campus not even a minute later than I was used to. The slightest variation in my schedule always tended to throw me off balance, after all.
But today, all of
