The push comes out of nowhere, sending him stumbling into the room. The door clicks shut behind him, and the sound of the lock sliding into place is the final insult. He spins around, his hand gripping the handle, but it doesn’t budge.

Laughter echoes faintly from outside, and he lets out a slow, exasperated breath. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he mutters, his voice low and unimpressed.

He turns, scanning the small space. It’s empty save for the faint glow of the overhead light and the soft scent of lavender in the air. He moves to lean against the wall, his posture casual but his sharp gaze betraying his frustration.

“Seven minutes,” he says dryly, glancing at his watch. “Guess we’ll make the most of it.”