She needed to breathe.
I needed a moment to breathe under normal circumstances. These were decidedly not normal circumstances.
Then my phone rang.
I jumped. Arthur startled. Percy reached into his pocket as if someone had fired a gun.
The caller ID showed my boss’s name. My stomach dropped.
“Oh no,” I whispered. “I forgot to tell the library I was leaving early.”
Arthur tilted his head. “Is this a problem?”
“Yes,” I said. “My boss is allergic to spontaneous decision making.”
I answered. “Hello.”
His tone came through sharp. “Miss Ripley, why are you not at your station? Several patrons have reported your absence. Where did you go? Why did you leave early? Why was I not notified?”
I winced. “I had a family emergency.”
“You can’t simply leave without proper documentation. You’re a vital part of this library’s structure. I can’t run a branch with interns.”
I rubbed my forehead. “Actually, I’ll need the rest of the week off.”
“The rest of the week? Absolutely not. That is unacceptable. I have programming and deadlines. I havepaperwork with your name on it. You can’t drop everything because of some vague emergency. I need proof.”
I glanced around the bunker. There were so many options for proof, but zero reasonable ones.
“Hold on,” I said. “I can’t send pictures while I am on the phone.” And I hung up.
Arthur stepped closer, lowering his voice. “Artemis.”
My name coming from his mouth sent a little tingle down my spine.
“You don't have to come with me to Scotland,” he murmured. “I should have said that earlier. You owe me nothing.”
I blinked up at him. “Oh. I… I just assumed…”
He shook his head once. “It’s dangerous, and you have a life here. You shouldn’t feel pushed into anything.”
Disappointment lanced through me.
“But,” he added, “I could use your expertise. You understand catalogs, collections, and all these systems. You’ll see things I might miss.”
My brain snapped to attention like a dog hearing a whistle. Fartie Artie relaxed a fraction. I could be useful.
I swallowed. “You want me there?”
“Yes,” he said. “But the choice is yours.”
His gaze held steady on mine, and in it I saw no demands, no assumptions. I saw nothing but respect.
“Then I want to help,” I whispered back. It was stupid—I barely knew Arthur, and there was this whole strange, dangerous mystery of whatever the hell was going on, andnow I was going off to another country with him?—but I’d wanted adventure, hadn’t I?
Arthur nodded, slow and almost relieved. “Thank you.”
The relief shouldn’t have had such tremendous impact. I clocked it anyway and filed it under theThings I Will Pretend Not To Notice For My Own Emotional Safetytab in my brain.
