Zaara's POV
The door slammed shut behind me.
For a moment, I stood still, my palms were sweaty, my heart was racing.
Then I turned…and there was Nomi.
She was already halfway across the room, leaning her hip against a faded turquoise dresser, eyes glinting as she surveyed our prison room.
"Well," she said, flipping a strand of hair over her shoulder, "this looks charming."
I swallowed hard and forced myself to look around.
Our escape room was styled in something that looks like an abandoned Victorian sitting room.
A grand velvet settee sat under cracked plaster moldings, its gold trim was already flaking away. A dusty oil painting of a woman in a high-collared dress stared down at us with eyes that seemed almost alive.
On the far wall, an ancient fireplace, filled with blackened logs and scraps of scorched paper.
Candle flickered along the walls.
A giant timer glowed red above the door.
59:59
Nomi huffed out a breath. "Romantic, isn't it?"
