Chapter 15. The Black Room

If someone had told him, even a minute ago, that he would come running to Zama’s call, he’d have told them they were crazy. But he was.

He found the hanging gardens easily enough, and no one even asked him any questions as he marched between floors. The hanging gardens were a private room on the underground level. The quiet room looked oppressively beautiful and screamed expensive, but it was empty. Its walls and floors were a blinding white, a backdrop that allowed all the many gold fixtures, balconies, railings, poles, and pillars to gleam under the brilliant fluorescent lights.

He looked around, first wondering if he was in the right room, then wondering if it was a prank, and finally wondering if he was crazy. Why had he gone after a text message from Zama? What was he expecting from it? Then he heard a sound and turned towards it—and there was Zama.

She stepped out from behind a gap in the wall. Her hair was dark again, but longer, though that was not what he