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This was silly. Someone gave me a key to a room, didn’t explain why, and I had no idea if I was the only one who had access to it.
I got some of the message. Keep the room a secret, but how did it hide me exactly? And obviously someone else knew about it, because someone gave me the key.
And if it was something I passed on to someone else, then the person who gave it to me got it from someone else too, right?
Why me?
I drifted around the room, picking through boxes that contained everything from lamps and tools to clothes, costumes, and theater makeup. I stepped slowly and then spotted something that caught my eye. Hesitating, I moved toward a trunk on the floor and pulled out a pink dress, strapless and fluffy with a tulle skirt underneath.
I smiled, loving the fifties style of it. Trim waist, little roses in the pattern, the kind of Pepto Bismol pink that was in fashion decades ago… Why was this here?
I guess it wasn’t so odd. There was also a top hat and a waffle iron in one of the crates.
Oh, the stories this room could probably tell.
I laid it back in the trunk, folding it gently and closing the lid before walking to the bed and lifting a pillow to my nose.
It smelled clean, like detergent and spring. There was a record player with some records nearby and candles on the nightstand.
There was no way I’d stay here, not knowing anything about this place or whether or not anyone else had a key, but it was kind of cool. Another nook. Another cranny.
Another story.
Taking one last look around, I left, locking the room again and leaving so as not to press my luck. For all I knew, this was Father Behr’s secret place to be the real him and that dress was his.
Clutching my bag, I jogged down the stairwell, slipped the key into my pocket, and stepped into the gallery, closing the door behind me.
I’d missed three classes, but if I hurried, I’d make the fourth.
Taking the stairs, I walked through the church and out the doors, taking the path to the street and turning right. Leaves rustled in the trees, yellows, oranges, and reds fluttering to the ground, and a drop of cool rain hit my cheek. I breathed in the autumn breeze, the key light in my pocket.
Do not tell.
Part of me thought this was a prank. Otherwise, I would’ve gotten some real instructions.
But I wanted it to be real. Having my own hideaway made me feel like I was finally part of a town I’d lived in my whole life.
Like I belonged here now.
Walking down the sidewalk, lost in my head, I barely noticed the car pulling slowly up next to me on the street.
I did a double-take, seeing the cruiser. My chest tightened.
Shit.
“It’s starting to rain,” Martin said through the open passenger side window as he drove. “Get in.”
“I’m getting back to class,” I assured him, inching down the sidewalk. “I said I would help with the decorations for Homecoming after school.”
I started to walk again.
But he called out behind me. “Emory, I want to show you something. Now.”
I stopped, hesitating.
It was no use. He’d tracked my phone. I was out of class during school hours. He came for me.
Knots coiling inside me, I stepped off the curb and opened the car door.
