Greta disappeared, and Thomas wasn't having it. He used Saoirse's app to track Greta's phone, because that was all he could think to do. Something was very wrong in Darrow - it started as people singing and dancing, but he'd seen more than one combust mid-song.

He had to find her. Something was terribly wrong, and he was going to find her. The night found him in all black; perhaps he was looking for strength in familiarity. Perhaps he was searching for the darkness in himself again - perhaps he thought it could help him, if it came down to something wicked.

Thomas found himself in front of what appeared to be an abandoned theater.

This isn't how the story goes
I've spent my life with poetry and prose
If she's here, I swear I'll make sure she knows
Just how much she means to me.

He struggled against the song this time, because he didn't want to find himself bursting into flames before he could be of any use to Greta. If he was here, he was going to bring her home. The fact that she had been gone at all had to mean she was being kept against her will, right? He didn't dare think of any other possibilities.

Thomas took a deep breath and let it out slowly as he approached the door. It opened, which somehow seemed a good and bad omen all at once.

"Greta?" he called into the dark.