The manager tossed the clipboard onto the seat of the cart and lifted an enormous bolt cutter from the floor in the back. Its pincer jaws were as big as a catcher’s mitt, its handles steeply separated. He approached the storage unit’s closed door, bent over, and inspected the padlock. He angled the bolt cutter so it hooked the shackle, set his feet apart, and grunted as he pressed the handles together. There was a loud crunch as the metal caved. He wiggled the bolt cutter free, unhooked the shackle, and opened the hasp.

Emily held her breath as he reached down for the door handle. She glanced at Mrs. Murphy, who stood squinting from the concrete apron just outside the unit, her hand over her mouth as if dreading whatever was about to be revealed.

The manager raised the overhead door, reached inside, and flipped on the light.

Emily had been afraid they’d find the interior partly or completely cleared out, but everything looked more or less as she remembered. A wooden workbench loaded with supplies stretched across the far wall. On both sides were floor-to-ceiling shelves loaded with books and document tubes and boxes.

But as she exhaled and took a breath, she realized that something was different. There’d been a sour smell before. Mold and mildew. But the stink that now wafted from the interior was far worse. Putrid. Maybe because of the heat? Or perhaps an animal had gotten trapped inside? She put her hand over her mouth and nose.

The manager must have smelled it, too, because he scowled and took a few steps back. “What are you storing in here?” He turned to face Mrs. Murphy. “Plants and animals aren’t allowed. Nothing wet or—” He sniffed again. “No food. No fertilizer.”

“Fertilizer?” Mrs. Murphy said, drawing herself up. “You haven’t the slightest idea what you’re talking about, young man.”

Emily said, “Maybe it’s because the climate control isn’t working. From the looks of the book collection, it hasn’t been working for quite some time.”

The manager examined the thermostat on the wall by the door. Raised his hand and felt a vent in the ceiling. Scowled. “I’ll look into it and get back to you. Right away.” The speed with which he got in his cart and rode off made Emily wonder how long it would be before Mrs. Murphy actually heard from him.

Mrs. Murphy hung back with Becca as Emily stepped into the unit, with Lila behind her. Emily put the document tube on a shelf with other tubes and looked around for the source of the odor. Meanwhile, Lila moved slowly down one side of shelving, pulling down an occasional book, gently examining it, putting it back.