My door is ajar. Alex’s arm shoots out to stop me from moving farther, like someone in a spy movie. I almost roll my eyes, but a sinister feeling hangs in the air around us. “Did you lock the door?” “Yes.” He pulls me into his room and leaves me standing in the middle of the rug. I watch in horror as he tugs a gun from beneath his desk. A real-life gun. Like, an actual one that shoots bullets.
A GUN?!
