"I didn't mean it like that!" protests Andrew. It's a lie, of course; he knew exactly how he'd sound. Why had he done that? Why did he always do that sort of thing? "Daine, come on, right turns!"

He jogs to catch up, rounding the corner after her. When he gets there, though, Daine's nowhere to be seen -- there are only branching corridors, all of them devoid of his friend. "Daine?" calls Andrew, frozen at the point where they all fork off from one another.