Max stared at the crimson ribbon like it was a detonator with his thumb already on the button. His brain was doing cartwheels, flipping through every possible escape route, every excuse, every half-remembered prayer his grandmother used to mutter when she thought no one was listening. None of them applied here. He wasn’t in his bedroom. He wasn’t even in Pine Ridge anymore. He was standing in a library that shouldn’t exist, in front of a book with his name on it, and the only exit had vanished like a bad magic trick.
