Cass blows an errant entirety of her head of hair out of her way. It doesn't work. Why has nothing worked today?
First. No toast. No marmalade. No pureé. No custard. No sandwiches.
Secondly. Bradley made a mess on her dresser.
Third. Not so bothered about this, but her dark arts booklet on said dresser was splashed with the mess, too. Oh well.
Fourth. Going to sleep in a small wall alcove to find out a few minutes later it's a laundry shoot.
Then again, would you call that not working? It was actually quite efficient. The minute she was in it detected weight and slung her all the way down. Cass didn't dare thing what she was laid in. Until she looked around and realised she was still in the tunnel, in a little semi sort of area. Ante-chamber? Ante-tunnel? Where the slant lessened.
She shouts, and it echoes around all four of the different shoots above and to the one below. It rings in her ears in a bad way and so she shuts up pretty sharpish. This is the most stupid thing she's ever done and Cass really really would like it if she could make her way out of this alone.
But buggering hell, she's a little stuck.