Page 12 of With the Key in the Office

“Where were you after ten?” I asked.

“In here,” she said. “Mostly. I shelved periodicals in the east wing and then ran a circulation report. I took the crate of misprints down to the basement to move them out of the way.” She rubbed the charm at her neck and winced as if it had zapped her.

Jessie let a beat pass. “Did you see anyone in the staff corridor?”

Maple made a small face at the stack of cards and only then answered. “Yes.” She swallowed and then produced a small, nervous smile.

“Go ahead,” I said.

“I went to the second-floor bathroom,” she said. “The fluorescent bulb in the mirror buzzed by the middle sink. It always does, and I always promise myself to learn how to fix it, then I forget. The door pushed at my shoulder from the other side. Someone was in a hurry. I stepped back and the person rushed through. It was you.” She looked at me and flinched, then forced herself to hold my gaze. “I dropped my charm, and you said sorry without stopping. You bumped my shoulder hard enough to spin me.”

Jessie stayed very still. “What time was this?”

“Right before the glow under Mr. Vanderflit’s door,” Maple said. “Minutes.”

“You touched her?” Robbie asked gently. “This is important. You felt contact.”

“Yes,” Maple said, then flushed at the word and tried again. “Your shoulder struck mine. Solid contact. I picked up my charm and pressed it to my palm to keep it from ringing. It buzzed in a way it only does when ward lines groan. I came back here and stood behind that desk for a full minute preparing to call for help. Then the castle lurched, and the lights went wrong.”

Panic pressed behind my ribs, and I refused to let it find a home there. I had lived through worse stories. I could live through this one. Besides, I hadn’t done anything wrong. The truth always prevails.

“Did you notice anything off,” Jaylyn asked. “Any detail that didn’t match Cendi?”

“The color of the cardigan,” Maple said at once, then wavered. “No. The hair. No, that was correct. The shoes. You wore boots. No, everyone wears boots.” She shook her head, miserable with the uncertainty of it. “I’m sorry. I want to be useful.”

“You are,” Jessie said. “You gave us one thing we needed. Physical contact rules out a ghost.”

Maple nodded and then hesitated again. “I didn’t tell the hunters yet. I didn’t want them to think I wander into bathrooms when trouble starts. I want to be good at this job. I want them to trust me.”

“They will,” I said. “Thank you for telling us. We will share this with them if you prefer, or you can deliver it yourself.”

She squared her shoulders by an inch. “I’ll go now,” she said. “If I don’t, I’ll talk myself out of it. Please don’t move the stack of returns while I am gone. They bite.” She flushed and waved her hands. “The papers don’t bite. The enchanted stamps do. I have a plan to make them stop. It involves tea and gentle scolding.”

We promised to leave her stacks alone.

When she hurried toward the stairs, she moved in small, quick bursts that matched her words. The charm at her throat glimmered once in the stairwell light and then went still, which left me wondering about what it did and why she wore it, but other thoughts overtook that one.

Robbie watched the staircase long after Maple had disappeared. “If you hadn’t been with us all evening, I would tell you to check your phone for a photo from the bathroom mirror. It would be convincing.”

We walked the long way back to the dorms. The day had asked for courage in small ways, and tomorrow would ask again. We knew how to answer. We would ask questions. We would trust the right people. We would keep moving.

When I reached my room, Tilly and Simon executed their usual welcome parade. I scooped them up and held them until my shoulders relaxed. The window showed a sky that had traded its winter glare for a softer gray. The bed promised rest. I set my phone on the nightstand and called it a night with no flourish.

7

CENDI

The next afternoon’slight slanted through the high windows in long bars as my friends and I headed to the library to pick out the books we needed. Jessie walked on my left with her hands in her coat pockets. Jaylyn kept pace on my right with a slim stack of index cards tucked against her hip.

We approached the reference alcove that held books about hauntings and spectral theory. A soft glow pulsed ahead of us and turned the brass at the front desk into tiny moons. Ms. Maple stood inside that circle, her shoulders hunched as if the charm at her throat weighed more than it should, or maybe it was just from a lifetime spent looking at books, I couldn’t be sure. Thin light leaked between her fingers. She spoke softly to herself in a quick stream that never paused for air. Books were placed in odd piles around her desk, one stack curved in a spiral that widened toward the floor. One column leaned toward the door and held steady at a careful angle. Chalk marks dotted three neat towers. The pattern looked deliberate rather than messy.

Jessie cleared her throat while Jaylyn offered a gentle hello. Ms. Maple jumped hard enough to jolt the nearest stack and snatched the top book before it fell, then pasted on a bright smile as she tried to calm her breathing.

“Oh,” she said. “Hello. Sorry. I wasn’t expecting anyone, although I probably should have been given that I’m in a busy school. Research hours do continue, of course, and all students are welcome in the library. I’m very happy to help.”

“What got you so distracted?” I ask, partially because I’m being nosy and partially because Ms. Maple is acting strange.

“I’m in the middle of a small project. It isn’t dangerous.” The charm in her hand flared, threw a thin ring of light across her blotter and then dimmed. She winced at the timing. “Routine maintenance. Please don’t worry.”