At the Entrance of a Five-Star Hotel, My Sister Pushed Me Away. “Get lost, you can’t even afford a glass of water here,” She Laughed. My Mother Added, “A former maid like you just smells like bleach. Go back to scrubbing toilets.”

unit has successfully sealed the stairwells and locked down the service elevator on fifty-nine,” Tasha reported with grim satisfaction. “He has absolutely nowhere to go but up to the dining room.”

“Good,” I whispered, watching the glowing floor indicator climb: 50… 55… 58… 60. “Let the curtain rise.”

The lift chimed and its brass doors parted to the soft, elegant strains of a live chamber quartet playing Chopin. But the music was abruptly drowned out by the sound of high-pitched, hysterical crying echoing down the hallway.

CHAPTER 4: THE PREDATORS’