“What about this Mr. Mbalia?” asked Héctor, turning to Sal. “Let’s just assume that we can’t make it inside his office either. Will he help us?”

Sal grimaced. “Oh, I don’t think we should try that.”

“Why not?” said Héctor.

“It’s just that . . .” Sal paused and then shook their head. “Mr. Mbalia doesn’t really like . . . anything. He’s kind of . . . difficult?”

“Difficult how?” said Héctor.

“I’m pretty sure the only time he’s ever referred to the word ‘fun’ was to say, ‘Don’t have it.’ It’s like he’s allergic to the very concept.”

Héctor rubbed his chin. “Hmm. So, he’s not going to be easy, then.”

“No,” said Sal.

Héctor shrugged. “That’s fine. It’ll just be one of my more difficult roles.”

Juliana sucked in air between clenched teeth. “I am not sure about this,” she said. “Are you just going to ask him for the keys, Héctor?”

He flashed her a smile. “Why yes I am! You’ll see.”

“But we don’t even go to Sal’s school,” she said.

“And I feel like I need to remind you that he’s impossible,” warned Sal.

“No one can resist my skills when I actually get going,” said Héctor as the three of them moved back into the Room. “You’ll see.”

But quietly, deep down in his heart, Héctor was panicking. What if this didn’t work?

Nah. It was going to. Héctor was in control! There was no way he’d let this slip out of his grasp.

“Y’all ready?” he asked.

Sal and Juliana looked nervous. They traded a quick glance at one another. “I think so,” said Juliana.

“I hope so,” added Sal.

“Good enough,” said Héctor, and he opened the Room.

Chapter Thirty-Three

When Héctor opened the door to the Room again, a new sight greeted them: the closed door to the Saguaro Academy security office. There was a black nameplate tacked to it: K. MBALIA. Héctor took a deep breath, then stepped out into the hallway and knocked on the wooden door.

After a moment without a response, he tried the doorknob.

Locked. As he expected.

“Okay, no one freak out,” said Héctor. “This isn’t a dead end.”

Juliana groaned. “I really think we need to reconsider this.”

“Reconsider what?”

They spun around to face a tall Black man, his head bald and shiny, his beard cut tightly around his jaw. He raised a single eyebrow while frowning. “What are y’all doing outside my office?”

Here goes nothing, thought Héctor.

He cleared his throat. “Mr. Mbalia!” he said, his voice pitching high in faux excitement. “Just who we were looking for!”

“Well, I assumed that, since you were trying to get into my locked office,” he said. “Repeatedly. So you better have a good reason for that.”