“We’re closing in a few minutes and I got customers, kid,” said the clerk, handing back the slip. “Can I help who’s next?”

“But—” Tess said.

“NEXT!” shouted the clerk. A pale woman carrying three identical red business suits scowled at Tess before not-too-gently elbowing her aside. Nine growled, and the woman dropped her suits on the floor, startled. Nine sniffed at the suits, tossed her striped head, and dragged Tess and Theo over to Jaime, who had been waving at them from one end of the store.

“What?” said Theo.

“That,” said Jaime. He pointed to a black gown in a glass case displayed in front of the alterations desk. “Read the plaque at the bottom.”

TICKET # 3152, TLJ, THE 17TH OF JUNE.

A TICKET WRITTEN BY THOMAS L. JENNINGS HIMSELF SOMETIME IN THE 1840S. BELIEVED TO BE A GOWN WORN BY NONE OTHER THAN MISS THERESA MORNINGSTARR, THE ITEM WAS NONETHELESS NEVER PICKED UP. SOME SAY THAT IT WAS LEFT HERE BY MISTAKE AND FORGOTTEN; OTHERS INSIST THAT LEAVING THE DRESS WAS MEANT AS AN INSULT, THOUGH MR. JENNINGS WAS A GUEST AT SEVERAL DINNER PARTIES AND EVENTS THROWN BY THE MORNINGSTARRS BEFORE AND AFTER THE TICKET WAS WRITTEN. STILL OTHERS BELIEVE THE DRESS ISN’T CONNECTED TO MISS MORNINGSTARR AT ALL, AND INSTEAD BELONGED TO SOMEONE ELSE ENTIRELY. THE TRUTH, ALAS, IS LOST TO TIME.

NO MATTER THE PROVENANCE OF THE DRESS, NOTE THE QUALITY OF THE SILK, THE AUSTERE DESIGN, AND THE ONE EMBELLISHMENT: THE LACE AROUND THE COLLAR. MR. JENNINGS’S REVOLUTIONARY CLEANING PROCESS DID NOT DAMAGE EITHER THE SILK OR THE DELICATE LACE.

Theo peered at the lace around the collar of the dress. Instead of dots or flowers, the lace was decorated with tiny hearts. Jaime took out his phone, took a picture of the dress. Then he pulled out his sketchbook and drew a sketch, because he didn’t quite trust technology. In his sketch, where a woman’s face would be, Jaime drew a blank oval, which Theo thought was just a bit creepy.

Tess frowned at the creepy blank oval, then glanced around the busy shop. She kept her voice low when she said, “I think we have to figure out whose dress this is. She’s probably the key to the next clue.”

“It’s late and if we don’t get home soon our parents and your grandmother will start freaking out. Let’s go back to Aunt Esther’s,” said Theo. “We can look through some of Grandpa Ben’s notes. He researched a lot of the people who hung out with the Morningstarrs, or did business with them. Maybe we’ll find something.”

Jaime sighed, tucked his sketchbook back into his pocket, but didn’t say anything cheerful or sarcastic or cheerfully sarcastic.

“Are you okay?” Tess asked him.

Jaime tugged at a loose ’loc. “You guys ever wonder when this will end? Or how?”