“Hello,” says the man in a thick accent. “You surprise me.”

“You surprised us!” Mercedes says.

“Can I help you?” The man is wearing gray pants and a shirt that says Manuel King on the pocket. He’s pushing a cart loaded with a big trash can and cleaning supplies. He has black hair and brown skin and a friendly smile.

“Um, yeah,” Mercedes says. She taps the closed office door of Francisco Gómez. “This is our dad’s office and we’re supposed to meet him here.”

I think quick. “He’s at the library,” I supply.

“He said he left his office unlocked, but I guess…”

“I guess he forgot. And our phones are in there. Do you think—”

Mercedes interrupts me. “Do you think you can let us in?”

Manuel King looks around the hallway. “I didn’t know Señor Gómez had daughters.”

An icy knife goes up and down my spine. We didn’t count on him knowing our dad. Will he know that Francisco Gómez doesn’t know about his daughters’ visit? Does he know Francisco Gómez already left for the day? Will he be suspicious that we’re here without him? Is he going to turn us in? Will he call the security guard? Are we about to get arrested?

“You two look just like him,” Manuel says with a big smile. “¡Lo mismo! I should have guessed.”

I have never felt so relieved in my entire life. Mercedes and I both let out the biggest, longest sighs ever.

Mercedes grins. “That’s what everyone says!”

“Are you gemelas?” He seems to expect us to know the Spanish word. We look at him blankly. “Twins?” he translates. We shake our heads. Maybe I should tell him about doppelgängers.

“I have twins. One daughter and one son—a little older than you.” Manuel King pulls out a ring of keys. He fits a key in the lock. “They love to visit me at work. I like them to come to Northern Madrone. Maybe someday they’ll go to college and won’t have to be a custodian like me. They’ll be the ones working in the nice offices. Maybe with a hammock like Señor Gómez.”

As he says this, Manuel King swings the door open. A hammock is strung across the office. It’s striped yellow and blue and red and white and it takes up almost the whole space. You have to duck underneath to get to the desk, which is tucked under the window. I’m so relieved we won’t have to break in through that window.

“Does he have a hammock at home, too?” Manuel asks us.

“Yep,” says Mercedes.

“Nope,” I say—at the same time.

Manuel’s smile fades. Why is this the one time we didn’t say the same thing?