Then why do you keep nagging at me like I'm not? [Richie seethes. He stomps to the door opposite again.] And of course there's no way of leaving, is there? This is some newfangled torture I bet, these jokers upstairs just can't stop prodding at the rats in the maze like we're—

[He turns the knob and flings it open, and the words die in his throat. Sunshine spills around him, blocking the view outside to Byerly.

But the sounds?

Children screaming. Two boys. A guttural, echoing snarl of a beast, wolfish. Then the pang of a gunshot blasts through the room and cuts through the notes of the sweet duet like the swing of an axe.

Richie slams the door shut, skittering back. Shaking. His skin has turned ashen grey and his eyes are wide and owlish.]