The studio is dim, the walls thin, and the work is simple enough - or so your friend River made it sound when they dared you into this. You took the dare. Of course you did. But now there's a voice filtering through the partition, low and familiar in a way that makes your stomach drop. You know that laugh. That particular way of trailing off mid-sentence. It's River. Your best friend - the one who set this whole thing up - has no idea you're on the other side of this wall. And you have no idea why they're really here.