Only now it became clear to the children that they should actually find the emergency exit, which had not yet led to Mr. Morrison. Outside there was a meter high snow and the Lindenallee intersection, where the bus was standing, was probably still more than a kilometer away. Ten minutes later, everyone stood with their shovels and buckets in front of the door with the inscription, Entry Prohibited. Ms. Kornfield pulled out her key chain and tried one key after the other. It doesn't fit. Oh, it doesn't either. Oh dear. All right, I still have one. Hey Jo, I could just pick up the door. No, Juri, leave it. She doesn't have to know that you can crack locks. All right. Well, it's open. I'll run to the end so no one gets lost. Here along the toilet, they say. I know my way around here, Erich. Hello, Erich. Mr. Winterstein, Erich. Oh, Eugenia, if we hadn't had you... Ida went ahead with the plan. Eugenia, the bat, half-heartedly. The corridor slid down. It smelled of earth, basement and moisture. There were many branches. To the right, to the left, again to the left. Then the corridor made a curve.