Dark Museum

Sophia

It hadn't happened just once: she'd imagined kissing Joshua Rossi daily for almost a year. When the crush of subway commuters became overwhelming, she'd close her eyes and imagine Josh, not a stranger, was sitting too close. If she didn't open her eyes, the trick worked enough to get Sophia home without panicking.

She lay in bed with her head in the crook of her arm the night the real kiss happened. It wasn't that he didn't meet her expectations or that she loved an idea, not a person: she would have liked the Joshua Rossi stuck in the museum with her if she hadn't had preconceived notions of him. He was supportive and sweet and he had those eyes.

But the cameras...

When he'd pushed her away, she assumed it was because she'd responded too enthusiastically. Then he showed her.

The cameras were in every room. Though he assured her the bedroom and bathrooms weren't surveilled, and the two of them spent an hour in front of the screens double checking, Sophia still switched the light off before undressing.

Of everything she thought she'd never miss, the sun/moon cycle was a big one. Though her body and mind were tired, keeping time still seemed important, but impossible. She'd been in bed long enough to know nothing would happen.

She dressed in an all-black ensemble from the clothes rack, grabbed her charging flashlight and headed into the quiet galleries. Snores coming from the kitchen told her she had the place to herself.

She cast a furtive glance to the untidy countertops as she passed the doorway. Once they ran out of tinned vegetables, bags of chips and assorted sweets, they might resort to cannibalism — starting with non-vital parts, everybody chipping in. Long before, things would surely get rapey. The men would grow hobo beards and use Sophia up.

"The village bicycle," she whispered.

Much as she'd liked it, Josh had moved on her already. Ajay made a pass she hadn't wanted. Kieron would be next, and she was afraid she wouldn't be strong enough to stop him.

She hurried upstairs before switching on her flashlight and went back to the office with the phone. Before picking up, though, she sat in the squeaky chair and opened the desk drawers to poke around and collect her thoughts. The desk was stuffed with papers and office supplies, metal wall hangers, tools, and photos, which she flipped through. The pictures portrayed the museum itself: close-ups of things needing repair, empty spaces blocked in permanent marker, and others featuring people she didn't recognize.

One of them she did.

The three-by-five showed Kieron smiling, hand blocking most of his face. He squinted against the bright flash and held a red plastic cup in the other hand. The contrast between the flash and the dark background made the location impossible to identify.

The next in the stack was easier to place — Sophia's eye went straight to herself. It was the worst picture she'd ever appeared in: eyes half closed, sloppy, drunken smile, slouched on a sofa in a home she didn't recognize. Josh lay against her, passed out, unruly curls covering most of his face. No one else was in the frame, but the Sophia in the picture grinned at whoever was taking the snapshot.

She didn't remember anything. Since she hadn't met Josh until the concert, it had to have been taken after the show — before Blair brought them here.

She shoved the photos in her back pocket and lifted the receiver.

He was already breathing on the line.

"Demetri?"

He heaved a sigh and said, "Oh. You're back."

"I couldn't sleep. I found something..." Before finishing the thought, she switched gears. "Did you know about the cameras?"