Daniella reached into her pockets for a pen. She was going to write down, to draw, to scribble, to at least take these horrible feelings and make them useful or productive. But Daniella patted herself all over. She didn’t have a pen. She reached into her bag. She found her notebook and let out the most enormous sigh of relief.

But then she opened it.

This wasn’t her notebook. This was the old ledger with all the bookstore’s finances in it. And if she didn’t have her notebook—her sacred, precious poetry notebook—that could mean only one thing.

Daniella’s secret book of poetry was floating around the bookstore for the entire world to find.

21

Left No Light to Guide the World

1:47 P.M.

Imogen

There was a strange hiccuping sound coming from the second floor.

Imogen looked at Jo, who looked back at Imogen.

“Okay, but do you hear that?” Imogen had to know. It was the oddest sound. Almost human. Almost like a crying infant, but also almost like a whimpering dog. Imogen didn’t even know what could be making that kind of sound.

Jo nodded. “Definitely. I definitely hear that sound.”

“But what is it?” Imogen was mystified. She’d gone into the office, looking for everyone. Half the staff was missing, and something was clearly up. She’d found Jo instead.

“No idea, but I’ve got to go check on what it is before the few customers we do have hear it and get scared off.” Jo started to walk out of the office.

“I’m coming with you,” said Imogen.

“What? Are we glued at the hip now?” Jo’s sarcasm reached some pretty peak levels for someone who was trying to show she cared so deeply.

Imogen didn’t mean to go straight to a childish, petulant place. But her knee-jerk reaction could not be helped. “Sure, next thing you know I’ll follow you into the bathroom.”

Jo sighed. “Fine. I’ll give you a lecture about boundaries and sarcasm later. First, to the mystery noise.”

It took them a minute. The sound warbled around the second floor, with no distinct source. A thudding added to the warbling, creating even more distortion to the sound. The rhythm and the whine echoed and bounced until it sounded like it was coming from everywhere and nowhere all at once.

Jo waved Imogen over. “It’s got to be coming from the bank vault. The vault is the only room in this entire building that does that.”

Imogen didn’t have an argument there. She couldn’t place the sound at all, and she had no idea what could be making it.