Daria, in that moment, realized that her date was not a wealthy heir, nor a gentleman. The table which was artistically arranged with the most decadent fare— now a rancid mess of carnage and decrepit dinnerware.

“How long have I been in this chair?” she thought, panicked. “And where did Michael go? When had everything changed? Was he ever truly real?”

Just then, Daria heard a creaking coming fro...