The address led us to a cluster of condominium towers.

We circled the block twice then turned back toward the street when a security guard waved us over.

Cautiously, we approached.

He handed me a business card printed on ordinary paper.

On the back someone had sketched a map.

A dashed line wound between buildings, down into a basement, and ended with an X.

Then he pointed toward the nearest tower.

~

We followed the map through a parking garage and into a corridor that smelled faintly of bleach. The elevator descended below the apartments.

At the end of another hallway, we found an unmarked door.

I checked the number against the card one last time before knocking.

It opened almost immediately.

A man stepped out, accepted a small “donation” and welcomed us inside.

The hallway looked exactly like any apartment.

Musty carpet. Cleaning supplies.

Then the walls began to close in.

Posters covered nearly every inch. Display cases filled the living room.

Books spilled from shelves into stacks on the floor.

Badges, pamphlets, newspapers, and ration books occupied every remaining surface.

One hallway closet had become another exhibit.

Cheerful workers smiling beneath slogans celebrating sacrifice and solidarity.

Above them, Mao looking down while peasants and factory workers gazed back up at him.

A bedroom still held a radiator beneath its window, though the walls around it had disappeared behind successive printings of the same poster.

“Look at this,” Dani said from the other room.

I came and studied the images with her.

With each new edition, another official had quietly disappeared.

In the next room, American soldiers appearing as rotting green monsters marching beneath Franklin Roosevelt while Hitler strained against a leash behind him.

Beside it sat a stack of children’s textbooks, their covers worn soft from use.

Then we turned another corner only to find ourselves back in the hallway. There wasn’t another room to discover.

The owner appeared quietly in the hallway behind us.

I’d forgotten about him.

He gestured to the door.

“Whenever you’re ready.”

~

We thanked him, then climbed back upstairs, and stepped out into the courtyard.

The guard, nodded to us from his booth as we left—a bulge of cards still peaking from his pockets, ready for the next curious stranger who couldn’t find their way.