Yeong looks at what's behind the open door—that is not the hallway—looks at the boy, at Kaede, closes the door, tries to open it again—

It's not much to look at, really.

The door leads to the Sheriff and his son, arguing about proper etiquette with perps.

"Hey, did it go okay in there?"

"There is a boy dying in there," she says, opening the way, and now she has a phone in her hand, and—" Should I call nine-one-one?" She's already calling nine-one-one.

Kaede's trying to stop the bleeding with her hands.

The Key is nowhere to be found.

"Iggy, what- I'll put in a call to the hospital too, might be faster."

He goes to do that.

Stiles looks vaguely nauseous.

"Iggy, hey buddy, it's gonna be okay, we're getting help..."

Stiles kneels down, next to the boy.

Next to the body.

Help arrives, of course, but they can't do much for the dead.

The Sheriff rides in the ambulance anyway.

Stiles stays behind.

"What happened?"

"The door opened," because there is only one door, there is no way that boy could've come in from anywhere else, "and that boy walked in, looking for the sheriff. There was a room behind the door, not the hallway. When I closed the door and opened it again, the room was gone, and you were there."

"Okay. You, juvenile delinquent, same story?"

"That's what I saw, too."

"We don't usually have suddenly appearing rooms in the station, but there's a first time for everything. Did he say where he was coming from, what he wanted? Any explanation for how he got here?"

"No. He just said he wanted to see the sheriff, and then—"

"No, c'mon, don't cry! He's going to be fine, right mom? Mom delinquent? I mean, it's just a little blood, right? Gunshot wounds aren't that bad, really, if the bullet hits the right place, and it hurts but the doctors can stop the blood."

"He was dead."

"My dad has been trying to help this kid get away from his family and the gang for months, he can't be dead, he can't be part of some kind of hallway stealing space-folding gang that got him killed, okay?"

She shivers.

And her mother hugs her.

"I should be at the hospital, but someone needs to find out what's going on. So I'm here, finding out."

He sighs.

"'M sorry. None of this is your fault."

"We do not have any reasonable hypotheses to explain what just happened." Unreasonable ones, on the other hand... "I don't suppose this room had active surveillance while we were talking, to corroborate our story?"

"...My dad can get the tapes pulled without anyone asking questions. He'll want to know what's going on, though." 

"We would love to know what's going on, as well."

Cling.