“I don’t know,” said Sal. “How? It’s really, really far from that storage container to this room. We can’t carry all those books and do it during school. We’ll get caught.”

Here it was: the moment where Héctor’s plan had to come together, or this would all fall apart.

“So we don’t,” he said, relishing in the drama of this next reveal. He closed the door to the Room.

Opened it again.

Warm air rushed in.

Juliana and Sal gasped.

And it was oh so satisfying.

“Remember my theory about what we need?” Héctor asked. “Well, I’ve been thinking about it a lot, and I think Sal needs this.”

His friends stepped out into the balmy night air of Phoenix, Arizona. Héctor watched them look upward, and he did it too, gazing up at the stars that twinkled in the dark sky. And there, sitting on the field in front of them, was a metal storage container, illuminated by moonlight.

“Is it the middle of the night?” Juliana said. “Héctor, you might need to pinch me.”

“You are not imagining this,” said Héctor, silently relieved that this had worked.

Sal pointed at the container. “That’s where they’re keeping the books. Which means . . .”

They turned around to gaze at Héctor. He stood triumphantly in the doorway of the Room, which had appeared on the outside of a building.

“Which means my plan worked,” Héctor said. “And we’re gonna get your library back.”

Chapter Thirty-Two

“Pinch me, please,” said Juliana.

Héctor stepped toward her.

“Actually, never mind,” she said, immediately stepping back. “I forgot I don’t like pinching.” She looked back up at the night sky.

“I told you,” said Héctor. “I had a plan.”

“But . . . did we travel in time?” Juliana paced back and forth. “Are we in the past or the future?”

“Uhhhh . . . I guess I didn’t think about that,” said Héctor. “Does it really matter? The Room always seems to put us back when we—I mean, where we need to be.”

“It is a lot to wrap my mind around,” said Sal. “But there’s a problem you didn’t consider, Héctor.”

Héctor watched as Sal walked up to the metal container and grabbed a giant silver padlock. They pulled on it, then let it fall back down, where it banged loudly on the metal.

“This container is locked,” they said. “And none of us have the key.”

Juliana placed a hand on Héctor’s shoulder. “It was a good idea while it lasted.”

But he squirmed away from her. “No, this could still work! Sal, who would have a key for this?”

“Honestly?” said Sal. “Well, I know that the janitor has one, since he was mainly the person who had to box up and store all the books. And Mr. Mbalia probably has one too. He’s the head of security.”