sat a metal lunchbox.
Red.
Dented.
With a faded sticker of a white daisy.
Lily remembered that lunchbox.
Her mother used to carry sandwiches in it when she worked late at the archive.
Lily opened it.
Inside was a dry pair of wool socks, two protein bars long expired but still sealed, a box of matches, and a folded note.
Her mother’s handwriting.
Lily, if you found this, you were paying attention.
Good girl.
Don’t stay near the entrance. Sound travels up the shaft. Follow the blue cable until you
