“At least let me test the first row? Give me a boost. If it’s not safe, we’ll try something else.”

“Promise?”

“Cross my heart.”

Alex slung her tablet and satchel across his torso and helped lift Luna up onto the first row. Her foot fit perfectly in the space between the wall and the frame of the portrait. She reached for the row above her head, testing how it felt to lift herself up. The frame held fast. Her hands stung a little, but nothing too bad. “I think it’s fine. It feels sturdy,” she said.

“I really don’t like this, Luna.” He hovered around her, arms extended in a semicircle of protection near her hips. “What if you fall?”

She looked over her shoulder, smiling with manic excitement. “What if you catch me?”

“Of course I’ll catch you,” he said with confidence, but looked nervous. “But you could still get hurt.”

“I won’t,” she said, heaving herself upward.

Unfortunately, climbing the wall turned out to be more difficult than she’d thought. By the time she reached the fourth row, she was huffing and puffing, hands turning red from holding the frames in a death grip. She paused to catch her breath.

“Everything okay?”

“Yep. Just deathly out of shape,” she said in between breaths, squeezing her eyes shut in case the urge to look at him overpowered her. Luna didn’t think she was afraid of heights, and now was not the time to put that thought to the test. Standing on bridges and looking down was one thing. Free soloing up a portrait wall was on a whole different level. She kept her gaze focused on Dulce. “I guess to be out of shape, I’d have to have been in it at some point.”

If I were tall, I’d be there already, she thought bitterly, gritting her teeth. Row after row, using frame after frame, she continued hauling herself upward. Okay. I got this. Almost there.

The animal portraits were slightly smaller than the black ones. She tested Dulce’s portrait—secured just as tightly. She straddled two black portraits on the top row, one under each foot, balancing her weight. Holding on with one hand, she searched with the other, feeling the edges and running her hands gently over the textured surface. “I think this is a real oil painting,” she said.

“Anything else?” Alex sounded so nervous she almost broke her no-peeking rule.

“No,” she admitted while double-checking. “Maybe I should try the parrot portrait? Since it’s a bird?” Three portraits away. No big deal.

“Or maybe you should come down?”

“But I’m already up here. Might as well be thorough.” She extended her foot, resting it on the top of the portrait, steadied herself, and swung herself to the left.