LAYLA AND I walk through heavy wooden double doors into an ancient-looking library. Rolling ladders are perched against walls of bookshelves, balconies that zigzag along the second floor contain small seating areas, and the ceilings arch high above, plastered in intricate patterns. The filtered light coming from the enormous stained-glass windows highlights the dust from the worn fabric and leather books and makes the air sparkle, giving the whole room a magical feel.

I’ve been trying to talk to Layla about what happened in mind games yesterday, but every time I attempt to bring it up, she just tells me to wait.

We walk past a row of tall bookshelves and climb a spiral staircase to the second floor. The library is virtually empty, not that I think everyone would be racing to get here on a Sunday, but then again, who can really tell with a school like this? We make our way to the rounded back left corner of the second floor and Layla stops.

“Pay attention,” she says as she checks the surroundings to make sure no one is looking, even though we are entirely shielded by a bookcase. She pulls two bluish books from the third shelf, a thick torn brown one from the fourth shelf, and a faded red one from the fifth. Then she pushes the center of a carved leaf on the dark wood molding and the bookcase pops open to form a door.

My eyes widen. “That was so freaking cool,” I whisper.

I make a mental note of the books she used and which leaf she pressed. Layla holds the bookcase door open for me, and I enter to discover a cozy little room with a rug and two armchairs around a table stacked with books.

“What is this place?” I ask in awe. A secret room behind a bookcase? Emily would die of excitement over this. She’s not only a book lover, but was also the type of kid who would talk to an odd-shaped hole in a tree, convinced that fairies were hiding in it.

“Our private study,” Layla says. “Each dorm room is assigned one.” She grabs a box of matches off the table. “They’re scattered all over the library. Of course, you would never leave anything secret here. They’re clearly not impossible to break into. But we mostly leave each other’s spaces alone to avoid retaliation.” Layla lights the candles in the wall sconce, brightening the little study. “Besides, they give you a place to think without someone reading your facial expressions every two seconds.”

“Not to mention the stone walls make them virtually soundproof,” Ash says, sliding through the door right before Layla closes it. He must have been following us, and the fact that I didn’t notice worries me; I wonder what else I’m not noticing.

Layla scowls at him, which only makes him put on his most innocent expression.

“Aw, don’t be mad, Lay,” he coos.