He shuffled to his seat, but she followed right behind him. “Well, if you ever need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.” She tapped on his desk after he sat down. “I did want you to know that I was very pleased with your recent project.”

He scratched his head. “My what?”

She raised a finger to the wall in the rear of the classroom. “I really liked your last pastel piece,” she explained. “There’s something so touching about it. And mysterious. You’re showing such growth in a very short span of time, Héctor. Good job.”

There, prominently mounted near pieces from other students, was a drawing he had done.

It was a door. A door opening on a secret, colorful world.

Héctor looked back to Mrs. Caroline, but she had returned to her desk, shuffling papers as more kids streamed into the room. Did she say something nice about his art so she could cheer him up? Maybe. He had to admit it felt nice that she noticed that he was trying so hard.

Héctor smiled at Mrs. Caroline, even though she wasn’t looking. Today had felt like he was on a roller coaster, his emotions reaching new highs and lows. But as class started, Héctor let the tension of Mike out of his body.

You can beat this, he told himself.

And he was starting to believe it.

Chapter Twenty-Two

After an unnecessarily sweaty gym class—How was it still hot in October? How did anyone in Orangevale survive this utter tragedy?—Héctor wasn’t sure where to go. He knew his destination was the Room, but he lingered outside of the gym, his eyes locked on the double doors that led to the auditorium. Part of him wanted to dart inside and explore it. Did it have a stage? Full curtains? If so, who would let something like that go to waste?

Another time, maybe. But where was the Room this afternoon? Was he just supposed to wander the halls until it showed up? That seemed a little unfair.

Unfair? he thought. Bruh, you’re talking about a magical ROOM. How can it be fair?

But there had to be a logic to it, some guiding force that allowed it to change as it had for Héctor, Juliana, and Sal. There was no way it would let him wander aimlessly without making itself known.

The halls were emptying out quickly at the end of the school day. He headed toward the main entrance on campus, near where he’d seen it before, and—

There it was: JANITOR. The door was tucked in between two others, and if Héctor hadn’t known better, he would have thought that it belonged there. How was it able to do that, to blend in so effortlessly?