The Shop

>Don't let Sam sacrifice herself for you or something crazy like that, assure her everything gon be ok, even if you have to break down that door with your own hands

Sam:
"Well yeah? No need to be so over dramatic.
I mean, we're both getting out. Duh."

>Check pockets for cash. Put significant amount of money onto counter, then say "Is this enough to pay our damages?"

You slap everything you have in your wallet onto the counter.



Seven dollars and twenty-five cents.

There's no response.

Sam:
"The tragic tale of the starving artist."

>This may be your last chance. It's time to confess something to Sam. Something you've been wanting to say for a long time. Take her by the hands and look her in the eyes. Take a deep breath. "Sam... It's true... I-... I'm the one who's been blowing their nose on all your shirts for the past several years..."

Sam looks surprised.



Sam:
"You mean that wasn't revenge for all the times I dumped bubble soap into your sax?"

>Browse musical instruments..

You wander deeper into the store, searching until you find the meager shelf with instruments on display.



Sam:
"Oh hey we used to play those in elementary.
Do you still have yours?"


Your phone vibrates.
The voice on the other end seems to have calmed a bit.

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"ᖴᎥᑎᗪ ᗰᗴ"