Long Lost, стр. 38
Fiona nodded. “Maybe if we leave it here, it will happen again.” She closed the book, letting her fingers slide across the soft leather cover. She thought of the archeologists who discovered sacred things, like graves and temples and relics, and who decided to leave them where they’d been placed. Because the past deserved respect.
She reached into her pocket.
“This belongs here too.” She set the knife on the closed book.
Charlie nodded. “I’m sure Evelyn . . .”
But he didn’t finish. Because the pocketknife had begun to move.
It wobbled on its rounded handle like an egg set on a countertop. As Fiona and Charlie stared, it spun faster and faster, making several full circles before coming back to a halt.
“The—the floor must be uneven,” said Fiona shakily, grasping for explanations. “Or there’s a draft or something.”
“Do you hear that?” Charlie whispered.
His eyes went from the knife to the far side of the room—to the spot where the knife’s handle was pointing.
The spot where a peephole was drilled through the wall.
They both dashed toward it.
Charlie got there first. “Look,” he breathed, leaning to the side.
Fiona squinted through the tiny opening.
On the other side was a room that looked very much like the one where they stood now, with gilt-framed pictures, a carved wooden vanity and dresser, and a silk-blanketed bed.
But someone was lying in that bed.
As Fiona stared, holding her breath, she saw the silky blankets stir, and heard the sound of a girl’s voice, quietly, brokenly, sobbing.
Fiona and Charlie raced out of Evelyn’s bedroom. They skidded toward the next door in the hall. Fiona yanked it open.
The room beyond was empty.
Chapter Twenty
Fiona and Charlie stared into the dimness.
The glow of light was gone. The furniture and pictures and silk bedding were gone. And the figure in the bed was gone as completely as if it had never been there.
“But I saw her,” said Fiona, half to herself. “I heard her.”
She rushed back into Evelyn’s room and pressed her face to the peephole, Charlie right behind. The room beyond remained dark and empty.
“This doesn’t make sense,” Fiona muttered.
“Yes, it does,” Charlie answered, in his most know-it-all way.
Fiona spun toward him. “How?”
“Like you said yourself, the book chose us. It must be trying to tell us something else.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know,” said Charlie, after a begrudging pause. But then he added, “Yet. We just need time to figure it out.”
“Well, we don’t have extra time right now.” Fiona took a step backward. “I have to get home before my family does. And we have to get out of here before any librarians find us.”
“I know what we should do,” said Charlie as they crept back along the hall. “We should come back here tonight. After the library is closed.”
“After it’s closed?” Fiona glanced at him.
Charlie’s eyes had started to glow again. “So we can check the book and see if there’s more to the story. And we can explore the whole building with nobody stopping us. Plus, apparitions are more likely to appear after dark. I’ve read half of the paranormal section in this place. I know.”
“How are we going to get inside? Do you have a key?”
“We don’t need one. We’ll both go home and act like everything is normal. Then I’ll sneak back here right before closing, during the dinner rush at the diner, and hide inside when the librarians leave.”
Fiona paused at the top of the third-floor staircase. “You think that will work?”
“If I’m careful. I’ll open the door for you, and we’ll have the whole night to look around.”
Fiona folded her arms, considering. “I won’t be able to sneak out until my family is asleep. They all go to bed pretty early, though.”
“Can you meet me here at ten?”
“Ten,” Fiona repeated slowly. “Ten should work.”
She and Charlie nodded to each other. Then, as quietly as they could, they crept back down the STAFF ONLY stairs.
That night, after the sky had turned from deep blue to black, Fiona inched through her bedroom door.
It had been an ordinary evening at home. The Crane family had eaten dinner together before scattering in separate directions. If anybody had noticed that Fiona was more distracted and jumpy than usual, they didn’t say so. And no one, Fiona included, noticed that Arden was quieter than usual too.
By nine thirty, they had all been closed in their bedrooms, leaving the old colonial house dim and quiet. Now the squeak of the stairs under Fiona’s feet was the only sound.
She stopped in the hallway to adjust her backpack. The flashlight and spare batteries inside clicked softly. Swinging it back over her shoulder, she padded past the kitchen, past the living-room doors and—
Someone was in the living room.
Fiona froze in the doorway.
The figure was sitting on the couch, still and silent. No lights were on, and the moonlight that pushed its way through the wobbly glassed windows wasn’t strong enough for her to see it clearly. But it had a human shape, with thin arms and hunched shoulders and a head that swiveled to face her. Something glowed faintly in its hand.
The screen of a smartphone.
“Arden?” Fiona squeaked.
“Oh my gosh. You scared me.” Arden gasped back. “Why are you creeping around down here in the dark?”
“Why are you?” Fiona countered.
Arden dropped the phone to her lap, its glow lighting the edges of her face. “I couldn’t sleep. I wanted to watch a few videos and work on things without waking Mom and Dad.”
Fiona craned toward the phone. On its screen, a miniature Arden whirled silently around an ice rink. Arden tapped a button, and the video disappeared.
Thicker darkness filled the room.
The darkness came too late, though. Arden could have already noticed the backpack over Fiona’s shoulder, and the sweatshirt and shoes she was wearing. There was no point in Fiona saying she had just come downstairs for a glass of water.
But before she could settle on an