Something caught my eye, and I could barely make out a faded name etched ever so slightly into the metal. "Ezekiel Laughton," I read aloud. I furrowed my brow. "Laughton." I snapped my fingers as I recalled that was the name Alistair had given to Luke's family. "Wonder who this Ezekiel guy was. . ." I stood up and turned to face the boarded up windows. That reminded me that I was still a prisoner in that room, and that I needed to find a way out before they dragged me to that mentioned train station. I stuffed the watch in my pocket and checked the windows. Definitely wasn't going to get through those without a crowbar. I whirled around and glanced at the door. That had potential because it didn't have boards on it. I went up and knocked on the wood. It sounded very solid, so breaking through wasn't an option. The hinges and the knob were my best options, the latter of which was well-oiled and made of thick bands of metal. I turned to the knob, my last, best hope for victory. That turned out to be relatively unbarred, and unlocked.
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