BooksBarbecue
Back Again, Rachel
Chapters (98)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. Epigraph
  4. 1
  5. 2
  6. 3
  7. 4
  8. 5
  9. 6
  10. 7
  11. 8
  12. 9
  13. 10
  14. 11
  15. 12
  16. 13
  17. 14
  18. 15
  19. 16
  20. 17
  21. 18
  22. 19
  23. 20
  24. 21
  25. 22
  26. 23
  27. 24
  28. 25
  29. 26
  30. 27
  31. 28
  32. 29
  33. 30
  34. 31
  35. 32
  36. 33
  37. 34
  38. 35
  39. 36
  40. 37
  41. 38
  42. 39
  43. 40
  44. 41
  45. 42
  46. 43
  47. 44
  48. 45
  49. 46
  50. 47
  51. 48
  52. 49
  53. 50
  54. 51
  55. 52
  56. 53
  57. 54
  58. 55
  59. 56
  60. 57
  61. 58
  62. 59
  63. 60
  64. 61
  65. 62
  66. 63
  67. 64
  68. 65
  69. 66
  70. 67
  71. 68
  72. 69
  73. 70
  74. 71
  75. 72
  76. 73
  77. 74
  78. 75
  79. 76
  80. 77
  81. 78
  82. 79
  83. 80
  84. 81
  85. 82
  86. 83
  87. 84
  88. 85
  89. 86
  90. 87
  91. 88
  92. 89
  93. 90
  94. 91
  95. 92
  96. 93
  97. 94
  98. Acknowledgements

‘Yeah, but.’ I pointed at the headboard on the bed, a dramatic fan of overlapping slices of mirror. ‘Like, it’s class. And the light fixture!’ A giant supernova in chrome and opaque white glass stretched in a frozen explosion above our heads.

‘Rachel, we’ve thirty-four minutes left.’

‘Oh! Okay.’ My gaze flickered around the room. ‘That painting?’ I pointed. ‘Take it down, I bet something is stuck to the back.’ I touched the silver-grey walls. ‘Quin, this is fabric! Maybe silk!’

‘Thirty-three minutes.’ Then, ‘Rachel. You’re scaring me now.’ He’d lifted the painting from the wall and was unfolding something he’d found stuck to the back of it. ‘A riddle. How are you so good at this?’

‘Beginner’s luck?’

Hurrying through, I found an opulent bathroom of black marble and diffused white lighting. Then a decadently mirrored dressing room, containing a set of matching luggage so beautiful it almost brought me to my knees: five pieces in the palest blue leather—a large trunk, a smaller suitcase, a hatbox, a vanity case and one that could have been a doctor’s bag.

‘Hey!’ Quin had followed me in.

‘I know.’

‘No.’ He was pulling at the combination lock on the biggest trunk. ‘I bet that’s what we’re looking for, the numbers for this. Head in the game, Rachel.’

Finally, I focused.

The riddle from the painting led us to four different numbers, hidden around the room. The chrome legs of the nightstand, which were in the shape of a giant X, gave us 1 and 0. A recurring geometric pattern in the weave of a rug revealed itself to be an 8. And on the wall of the bathroom, a hidden number 9 appeared in the beam of an ultraviolet light.

But we still had to find the correct combination of the four numbers and only three minutes remained.

I was so invested in the outcome that I could barely breathe. First Quin input the numbers and I remembered them, then he said, ‘My hands are too fumbly. You take over.’

Input. Nothing. Input. Nothing. Input. Nothing. Input. Then—a click.

‘Oh God, Quin, I think this is it! If the earrings aren’t in here…’ I was trembling with anticipation and anxiety. ‘…I will legitimately die.’

The lock slipped free, then both of us were pulling the case open and the rush of adrenaline when I saw the two twinkling clusters within almost sent me into orbit.

‘Oh my God, yes, there they are!’

Fuelled by the rush of victory, I high-fived Quin at the same time as he went in for a hug and I accidentally smacked him in the face.

*

‘So?’ he asked, later. ‘You’re certain you didn’t sneak in there last night and do a trial run?’

‘I’m certain.’

‘But you’re a natural at finding all the hidden stuff.’