I didn’t have time to ask more before Chloe pulled me to run. The strength of a terrified seven-year-old girl was impressive. I stumbled, trying to keep up, while my heart began to pound. We crossed the crowded street, the traffic noise fading in my mind. Chloe dragged me to a nearby public restroom, but she didn’t stop at the normal stalls. She ran to the end of the hallway where there was an old door leading to a janitor’s closet. The dry click of the latch sounded like a warning.