Across the hall from Fungus Man’s bedroom stood another door. I assumed it led either to a closet or to a second bedroom. At that threshold, the air grew so chilled that I could see my breath, a pale plume. Icy against my palm, the doorknob turned. Beyond lay a vortex of silence that sucked the last sound out of my ears, leaving me for the moment deaf even to the labor of my heart. The black room waited.
