I sat up on my bed, shielding my eyes to protect them from the dazzling sun rays. With a disgusted grunt, I tore my Bridge off and threw it back in its case. Arms before me to avoid bumping into furniture, I swayed to the door and called, "Amy!"

I stumbled downstairs and found her in the kitchen.

Whistling a jolly tune, she switched off the gas stove, and slid a steaming banh chew from the pan to the dish, alongside other crepes. "Hey. I was about to look for you. I expanded my research to other countries and--"

"I know, I know." I sat down on a chair and muttered, "Ames, there's something I have to tell you."

She removed her apron with an exaggerated sigh. "Oh, geez. Whose cadaver do we have to hide?"

When I didn't react to her joke, she deadpanned, "Should I put back my apron to avoid blood splatters as we chop up the body?"

"Yikes. No, there's no corpse."

"Good. I don't think there's acid in the garage." On that last quip, she took a seat, and waited for me to spill the beans.

When I turned the crepes down, she tsk-tsked me. "Girl, whatever you're gonna divulge, we'll face the consequences better with a full stomach."

I nodded and shared the banh chew between us, recounting everything as we lunched. My digressions and Darcy's weird reactions. The growing attraction and my annoyance at his arrogant self. Schrödinger's cat and the Belvedere. Theo and Victoria.

As I detailed our narrow escape from the Batcave, I took a spoonful of crepe garniture and encountered a particularly big piece of red chili pepper.

"So, is a zombie army on its way to here, and if yes, do we have time for dessert?" Amy inquired, pouring me a glass of milk.

"I don't get it," I replied after rinsing my mouth and gargling.

"Victoria didn't succeed in trapping your minds in the virtual world. Nevertheless, she needs to handle the threat you represent. I'm pretty certain she can locate you by piecing together the game data.

"I don't think she would come for you herself, though. She'd send one of her minions to capture you or render you inoffensive. Even so, she'd have to be discreet, if her plan is not to control the whole population but to keep it in check using a little group of vigilantes."

I strode to the front window and inspected our alley, relieved as I found it quiet and deserted. However, Amy's remark had instilled fear into my heart. We weren't safe here. "Pack your things. We'll join the parents at Aunt Rachana's, just in case."

"Great. I'll take my baseball bat."

"Ames, these zombies are real people. They didn't ask to be involved."

She glowered at me. "Okay, I'll aim for non-lethal points, but I cannot guarantee I won't roundhouse kick someone should the occasion arise."

At the mention of martial arts, my thoughts turned back to Theo. "What if Theo didn't log off in time? Or what if he did, but a controlled Bridge user attacked him?"

"Can't you message him or something?"

"We never felt the need to exchange phone numbers. Our virtual meetings were enough."

She joined me at the window and wrapped me in her arms. "Damn, girl. These secret encounters sound better than sexting."

"What? We never... No. We only kissed. Once."

"Do you know where he lives?"

No. But I knew where he liked to hang out.

A dizzying hope tightened my chest. "I think there's a way to contact him, but it's risky."

"Let's go rescue that squire in distress, then."

"I'd rather go by myself, Ames. I need you to stay with the family: Mom's kravmaga moves won't be enough to defend four persons, especially with Edward in a wheelchair."

She buried her nose in my hair. "I don't like the idea of you being alone. You're too trustful. You need someone wary and streetwise by your side: can't I drop you off?"

"It's uptown. It will be quicker for me to commute there than for us to be stuck in Saturday-afternoon traffic. We'd be sitting ducks."

Amy stilled, then sighed. "Okay, I'll go to Aunt Rachana's. But activate your GPS app so that I can track you down."

I scrambled back to my room to get my wallet and phone, and when I returned to the living room, she had cleared the table and was waiting in the hallway. Before we left, she gave me a hoodie, cap and dark sunglasses. "To hide your face."

We remained silent during the five-minute car ride to Joliette station, but as she dropped me off in front of the metro entrance, Amy's hand found mine and she pulled me in for a bear hug. When she released me, she whispered, "When in doubt, hit the groin."

"I know," I replied, choking back tears. "And use your shin, not your foot or knee."

"That's my girl." She pressed a kiss on my forehead, and waved me goodbye as I descended into the entrails of the Earth.

A quarter of an hour later, I emerged back in the business district. Taking advantage of Montreal Underground City, I remained below the crowded boulevards, and spotted the signs mentioning the shopping centre.

I readjusted my hood over the cap, and took the direction of Promenades Cathédrale, shoulders hunched over and eyes trained to the floor. Not wanting to attract attention by jogging to the mall, I strolled at a leisurely rate. With each steady and purposeful step, I pondered the reasons I was exposing myself in the city centre, where Victoria's agents could be lurking at every street corner.

Theo had immediately dived after me this morning, meaning he had been working either at InfiCorp headquarters or from his apartment near McGill University. In both cases, his favourite spot, aka. the Tim Hortons close to Christ Church Cathedral, was situated within a convenient distance.

Of course, another possibility was Kondiaronk Belvedere. Theo had deemed it safe enough for our first real-life meeting, and indeed, we had managed a quiet talk there, away from bustling Downtown Montreal. But it was thirty minutes away on foot: I would be a fool to not check the coffee shop first.

While I mused with the hypotheses, I reached the mall entrance. The usual crowd hurried on each side of the hallway, flooding from and into stores in a spending frenzy. As I searched the level map, the scent of fresh donuts invaded my nostrils. Guided by the sweet emanations, I walked away from the food court, and exhaled with relief when the familiar neon sign came to view.

Containing my excitement, I passed it without a glance, and entered the Dollarama opposite. There, I pretended to browse the chocolate boxes behind the shopwindow while I strained to watch the people sipping their hot beverages and getting their mouths powdered with sugar in the Tim Hortons.

No hair porn in sight.

A big ball of disappointment formed in my throat. I swallowed hard, sending it straight to my stomach, in which it weighed on my guts. Was Theo missing because he was waiting somewhere else, or because Victoria had got hold of her mentee?

"Come on, kids. Let him be." Behind the Dollarama welcoming desk, a store clerk scolded a group of teenagers. They shook their head with disapproval, their box braids jingling in concert.

Huddled in front of the entrance, the teens were snorting and sniggering. "Look, look. He's doing it again. Take a video."

I cautiously approached the shopwindow to see what they were filming, craning my neck above the candy stands.

A young man was patrolling the hallway, sticking to an invisible pattern on the floor. Twenty steps, then he turned right. Twenty other steps, and another right. His gait was stiff and regular, military almost, with the arms kept to the side. As for his face, no emotion crossed it while he scanned the crowd. But that wasn't the most peculiar thing about him: the man was in pyjamas--flannel pants, slippers, and all.

"Do you think he's a performer?" a teen asked.

"Could this be a prank? Do you see hidden cameras?" Her friend craned her neck towards the ceiling.

A nagging suspicion led me to scamper out of the store headlong. I was almost in the hallway when the Dollarama employee shouted, "Hey, miss. Miss!"

I stopped in my tracks. "Yeah?"

They walked around the welcoming desk with a scowl. "Can I see under your hoodie, please?"

Sweat beaded on my forehead, pooling over my brows. "What? Why?"

In my back, a concerto of gasps warned me that the teenagers had turned their attention and phones in my direction.

The cashier squinted their eyes. "I saw you fret in the confectionery section, but you didn't go to checkout."

"That's because I haven't taken anything." I wrung my hands in despair, yearning to get as far away as possible from the shopping centre.

"Then you won't mind removing your hoodie. And cap. And sunglasses." They placed their fists on their hips with a jaded sigh.

"But--" I winced when fingers dug into my shoulder, forcing me to turn around.

Flannel-Pants held me in place and flicked my glasses away, revealing my horrified expression.

A malevolent smirk tugged up the corners of his mouth so high they almost touched the gleaming disc on his temple. "Found you."