Chapter 1

The air inside the Gutter Ball Lanes smelled like stale beer, ozone, and the distinct, chemical sweetness of cheap vanilla body spray. It was a scent that hit me the moment I pushed through the heavy, vibrating glass door, a olfactory time capsule that transported me straight back to my childhood Saturdays. The neon lights buzzed with a low, electric hum, casting the entire cavernous space in a wash of bruised purples, electric blues, and aggressive pinks. Strips of fluorescent tubing ran along the ceiling, flickering intermittently, while the massive LED marquee above the lanes spelled out *BOWL FOR YOUR SOUL* in a font that had been popular in the late eighties and refused to die. I adjusted my clutch, my fingers trembling slightly against the cold leather. I was supposed to be meeting my friends here for a group outing, but they had texted me ten minutes ago that they were running late due to traffic. I’d decided to come early, to grab a spot, to claim the corner of the bar with the best view of the lanes. But when I walked in, expecting to see the group of girls in their matching neon socks and striped shirts,