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“My dear Izzy,” Mrs. Kellner said, embracing Izzy by the counter as Cassie looked on. “You look like a doll, look at these pink cheeks.”
“I look like I’m frozen is what I look like!” Izzy muttered.
Mrs. Kellner held Izzy at arm’s length, running her eyes over her like she was a grandchild she hadn’t seen for years. “When are you goingto stop selling those expensive baubles, mmm? Come back here and sell things that make the world a better place.”
“Sorry, Mrs. K, but the expensive bauble people pay better. If you want to match what they pay me, I’ll be right back here.”
“Ah, money. Young people only care about money. There’s more to life than money, dear.”Mrs. Kellner picked up a stack of books and drifted away toward the back room.
“That’s easy to say when you live in a multimillion-dollar apartment on the Upper East Side!”Izzy muttered to Cassie, leaning across the counter.
“She just misses you,” Cassie said. “What are you doing here? I thought you were working today?”
“Just finished,” she said. “Do you know what time it is? Never mind. I need to talk to you.”
“What about?”
“About the...” She looked around and then lowered her voice. “Teleporty book.”
Cassie almost smiled. “Not here,” she said. A woman approached the counter, pushing a toddler in a stroller. The toddler was holding a large picture book out in front of her like it was a steering wheel. “Give me ten minutes and then I’ll take an early break. We can walk and talk.”
They walked arm in arm, holding each other close for warmth and stability on the icy sidewalk. Cassie’s bag was slung over her shoulder, the Book of Doors within. The street was busy with people and noise and traffic fumes, everyone wrapped up warm, their breath curling in the air. The sun appeared to have been swallowed by heavy gray clouds that threatened further snow. They walked in silence for a few moments, and Cassie found herself thinking about the many other times she and Izzy had walked arm in arm like this—to and from work in those early days of their friendship; to dinners with friends; to nights out when Izzy had been looking for dates and Cassie had been desperate to get home to whatever book she was devouring. It was their shared history together, and to Cassie it seemed almost as if they had always known each other, as if they were sisters.
“What did you want to talk about?” she asked.
Izzy nodded, staring ahead of them along the urban canyon. “I couldn’t sleep last night,” she said. “I mean, I probably did, when I went back to my room. Couple of hours maybe.”
“Yeah.”
“But it was like that sleep when you’ve got to get up early for something. You keep waking up and...” Izzy shook her head. “I kept watching the video we took, you know, of...?”
“Yeah,” Cassie said again. They waited at a crosswalk for the lights to change, and then crossed the street with the crowd, two groups of pedestrians coming together like opposing armies in a battle, before separating again and moving off in different directions.
“When I got to work, I couldn’t stop thinking about it, so I was googling all day.”
“Busy day in Bloomingdale’s, then,” Cassie observed. “What were you googling?”
Izzy rolled her eyes. “The weather in Minnesota! What do you think, Cassie? Your teleporty book. I was googling that.”
Cassie bit her lip, uncomfortable with the idea that Izzy had done anything about the book without first discussing it with her. “What did you find out?”
“Nothing,” Izzy said. “I was interneting like some PhD student for hours. I was looking at every website and every message board. Every vlog and blog and god knows what else. And I found nothing. No references to teleporting books or the Book of Doors or anything. Nothing.”
“Huh,” Cassie said, surprised by her own disappointment. “Why are you here, then, if you found nothing?”
Izzy gave her a disbelieving sidelong glance. “Don’t you get it?” she asked. “The internet knows nothing about your book.”
“Yeah, you said that.”
“Cassie,” Izzy said, speaking to her like she was stupid. “Google knows everything.Everything.I bet I could find your shoe size and Mrs. K’s tax returns. And this book, it’s not a normal thing, is it? It’s the sort of thing that peoplewouldknow about. So how come there’s nothing there?”
Cassie thought about the question. Something heavy settled in her stomach, a sensation she didn’t like. She refused it, ignored it.
“Oh, come on, Iz,” she said. “You’re worried because you found nothing. If youhadfound something, you would have been worried too.”
“It’s like someone is watching, deleting all references to things like this,” Izzy continued, her voice low and hurried. “I don’t like it.”
“You’re overthinking!” Cassie said, forcing a laugh she didn’t feel.
