The Secret Songs of D.C. Silverenn

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The echo of the woman's heels lingers in the air for a few minutes — or maybe it's just my ears playing the sound back to me, tricking me into believing that she isn't truly gone. Perhaps she still lurks in the corridor. Perhaps she's coming back.

"Cerise!"

I nearly scream. I definitely jump, banging my head under the table. My hand immediately flies to the back of my head, rubbing the sore spot.

Emi peers under the desk. Her face is pale with terror. "I don't know what the heck that was about, but I don't want to stay here and find out."

"Agreed." I'm about to stand up when my hand lands on something papery amongst the desk's wood. I snag it before crawling out.

"Something weird is going on here," Emi says.

"No kidding. But what are we going to do about the safe?"

Emi blinks at me, then deadpans. "Why don't we just take it with us?"

I want to facepalm. "Right. Of course. Why didn't we think of that sooner?"

"Save the sarcasm for the car. We need to get out of here."

We start for the door, then I pause. "Wait, but what about the hole in the floor?"

Emi turns, and we both stare at the two bookcases, where a piece of carpet is flopped down in the hole.

"Can't worry about it now," Emi says. "If they find it, they find it."

I shove the paper into my jean's pocket, then twist the lock on the door. Slowly, I turn the handle so as not to make a noise and crack the door enough for us to slip through. We tip-toe back to the staircase, Emi cradling the safe while I open the doors for her.

The silence dissipates the lower we go, replaced by the shuffle of feet, the squeak of wheels, the drone of background chatter. Emi's eyebrows draw together. Once we stand behind the door at the stairwell's base, she gives me the side-eye.

I swallow. "It might not be as bad as it seems."

"Oh, really?"

I place my hand on the doorknob and ever-so-slowly press it down. The door inches forward enough for me to poke my head out. Light streams through the hallway, but doesn't reach the section by the stairwell. The sounds are much louder now, grunts and exclamations, screeching rubber on concrete.

"What do you think is going on?" I whisper.

"I don't care!" Emi hisses. "Whatever it is, I want no part of it."

"It's probably just warehouse stuff. Whoever runs the warehouse is probably taking inventory."

Emi's hand lands on my shoulder, turning me to face her. "Cerise, this place is supposed to be abandoned. The city is supposed to be in charge of this place."

"Well, maybe workers for the city are out there."

Neither of us believe it for a moment.

"How the heck are we going to get out of here?" Emi's hushed voice sounds on the brink of tears. I peer into the hall again, though it's futile. I can't see anything.

My feet shuffle forward one step, then another.

"Cerise, get back here!" Emi says.

"I'm just checking out the situation," I say.

"No way. We have to get out."

"Exactly. Maybe they're almost cleared from the hallways." I dare another step. The door closes slowly, and Emi catches it, holding it ajar.