CELESTE'S POV"Ten minutes," a voice said through the door, muffled, from the top of the stairwell. "Just so you know."I didn't answer. I didn't have ten minutes to spend answering.I set the empty box back exactly where it had been and crouched down to look under the shelf instead, because if someone had already gone through this one, they might have dropped something doing it, and people in a hurry always dropped something.Nothing under the shelf. Just dust, and a dead moth, and more dust.My phone buzzed against my hip.Nadia. Forty minutes left. Still breathing?Still breathing, I typed back. Found something.What.Not sure yet. Give me the forty minutes.That's not what we agreed.It's what you're getting.I put the phone face down on top of the box and went back to the folder, the one with the torn strip still caught in the binder clip, and turned to the page behind the gap.November. Untouched, as far as I could tell, the ink steady and old and faded to brown at the edges the
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