She’s exaggerating, trying to scare us, and it’s not like getting Sini & Co. kicked out is an unpleasant thought. If only Morgan wasn’t standing right beside me, caught just as red-handed.

Sini tugs at the elastic band on her wrist, the sound of the snaps like firecrackers echoing down the quiet corridor. Aysha closes her hand over Sini’s wrist and a tense silence falls over all of us.

“You’ve no business being up here tonight,” MacCrone says.

“And you had no business snooping in my dad’s office.” The words are out of my mouth before I can catch them. Sini & Co. gape at me. Morgan grins through his sneeze-induced tears and gives me a thumbs-up.

“I’m pretty sure riffling through a high-ranking tietäjä’s things would be grounds for dismissal.” I have no idea if that’s true or not, and I might’ve sounded more threatening if my voice didn’t squeak up at the end of my sentence. Still, my words seem to have hit their target.

MacCrone’s grin slides into a frown as she scratches at the welter of scar tissue on her cheek.

“Maybe if you were doing your job,” Aysha starts. “Maybe we wouldn’t have to go sneaking about trying to find out what happened to our friend. Natalie’s missing, but I bet you knew that already.”

“Missing, is it?” MacCrone says through gritted teeth.

“You know she is,” I add. “You saw us at Pilvitalo. You know Natalie’s not sick and she’s not at school. Don’t try to tell us she’s in the infirmary.”

“And she’s not the only one, is she?” Morgan adds. “Do you know where Risto, Qendresa, and the others are?”

“You’ll be getting yourselves mixed up in all sorts of business you know nothing about,” she says, every word carefully measured.

“Like what exactly?” I glance at Sini, who looks as if she’s trying not to vomit instead of taking mental notes for an article. What kind of journalist misses an opportunity like this?

“You three.” MacCrone gestures to Sini & Co. “I won’t report this matter as long as you head on back to where you belong this very instant. Do you understand?” She glares.

“We understand, Miss MacCrone,” Sini says, the image of polite obedience.

“That’s Sergeant MacCrone to you.”

Sini gulps and snaps the bracelet again until Aysha grabs her hand, already tugging her toward the stairs.

MacCrone mutters a command in what I assume is Scottish Gaelic. The dragon seems to understand. Aysha mouths a “later” to us over her shoulder as Fiona shepherds the three of them down the stairs.

“As for you two…” MacCrone turns her attention back to us. “Are you all right?” she asks Morgan, who’s mopping his face with his sleeve.

“Allergies,” he says.