The last few straggling students filtered out of the library and hurried towards the dining hall. The dinner bell had rung almost ten minutes earlier, and the meal was set to begin, with or without them. By the grand staircase, two nuns watched over the scene—Sister Marion and another older nun. They studied each passing girl with shrewd, sharp eyes, their expressions impassive. The nuns had been even more vigilant as of late, lurking around in pairs as if they were all standing on guard, waiting for something to happen.

"Is that everyone?" said the other nun, her gaze trailing after the last girls as they disappeared through the dining hall's open doors.

"Not quite, Sister Prudence," Sister Marion replied as she turned, her beady eyes drifting up the length of the staircase. "Mildred Cunningham hasn't come down yet."

Sister Prudence just closed her eyes and shook her head. "She's probably sulking in her room again. Should we go get her?"

"No, I'll go," Sister Marion said, looking back at her companion. "You can go ahead."

"Are you sure?" Sister Prudence asked, narrowing her watery eyes. "I can go with you, if you like. It's no trouble."

Sister Marion scoffed. "I can assure you, I can handle the girl on my own."

Sister Prudence did not look convinced, but all the same, even she didn't dare to challenge Sister Marion. She gave the senior nun a single nod, then followed after the last girls into the dining hall. Sister Marion watched her go before turning to head up the stairs. She took her time, her footfalls slow, in no hurry to discover wherever Millie had gone.

Just as Sister Marion disappeared around the corner of the upper landing, Millie poked her head out from her hiding spot. She had been lingering in the shadows of the lower hallway, waiting for the other students and teachers to clear out. She doubted anyone—aside from Sister Marion, perhaps—would notice if she wasn't at dinner. It was one small benefit of being disliked. If she needed to, it wasn't difficult to disappear.

And that was precisely what she needed tonight.

Millie stayed there for a moment longer, making sure that Sister Marion wasn't about to double back before she turned to her companion.

"Let's go."

Matthew stepped out of the shadows, too. He'd given George, the senior groundskeeper, some story of a stomach ache to get out of the last of his day's duties; then he'd snuck out and skulked by a back door until Millie had come to fetch him. Now he surveyed the staircase with a sharp frown.

"Are you sure the old hag is gone?" Matthew whispered back. It didn't seem he was much of a fan of Sister Marion, either. Millie wondered what sort of encounters he'd had with her. Knowing Sister Marion, she couldn't imagine they were pleasant.

"Yes, but she won't be gone for long," Millie replied. It wouldn't take much time before Sister Marion discovered that Millie wasn't in her room, and she went looking for her in other parts of the house. "So we should go now."

Though his frown stayed put, Matthew gave a nod of agreement.

Together they snuck across the hall, keeping low as they headed for the basement door tucked in the corner of the grand staircase. Matthew stepped ahead of Millie, taking the lead. He unhooked his keys from his belt, selected the right one, and slid it into the door's lock.

Millie sucked in a breath and held it. She was almost afraid that his key would suddenly refuse to work—as if the staff might've changed all the locks over the afternoon, suspicious of their plan.

But the door opened easily with a quiet click.

They were past their first obstacle.

Matthew didn't hesitate. He took Millie by the shoulder and shoved her through the open door. He gave one last glance to the now empty hall before he slipped through the door, locking it behind him.

The basement was just as Millie remembered it, though she hadn't remembered much. The air felt damp, and the space was plain but tidy. The floor was flagstone, and Millie expected the walls to be made of stone too, as they felt cool to the touch, but they had been plastered over with white. Overhead, the hollow crevices between the wooden beams were crisscrossed with wires. Bare bulbs provided the only lighting.

Down at the far end, Millie could hear the light chatter of conversation and the clinking of metal on ceramic. The staff must be sitting down for dinner, too. Now she knew why Matthew had suggested that they go snooping around this time.

Matthew grabbed Millie's shoulder again and pushed her behind him.

"Stay out of sight," he grumbled. "I'm supposed to be down here, but you are not. If they see you, we're both done for."

Millie gave a small shudder as she thought of it and did as he said. She didn't need yet another blistering lecture from the Mother Superior. At least she was well hidden behind Matthew. It was fortunate that he was both tall and broad, plenty big enough to obscure her narrowed frame. Still, just in case, she pressed close to him. Warmth radiated off his body, and his smell enveloped her. It was the same as before, smokey and pleasant... Though there was something acrid that lingered underneath. Again it tickled something in her memory, though she still couldn't place it.

"Come on," Matthew muttered and began down the hall, staying close to the wall. He kept one still-gloved hand behind him to keep her in position.

"Now where?" Millie whispered, following in his shadow.

Matthew shot her a sharp look over his shoulder. "You're asking me? I thought you knew."

"I only said that they kept the files down here, not that I knew where," Millie whispered back, her voice taking an edge. "Where would the nuns store their files?"

"I don't know," Matthew said with a quiet snort. Millie hoped he wasn't starting to regret helping her. "In one of the storage rooms, I'd guess."

"And where are those?"

Matthew nodded towards a small offshoot hall. "This way, I think."

He pulled her along after him as he dipped around the corner. The hall was narrow and long, lit only by a single lamp, making it hard to see. Millie was glad she'd thought to bring her torch, supplied with fresh batteries. Her torch had been acting up as of late, so she hoped it'd hold. She pulled it out of her skirt pocket, clicked it on, and swept it across the hall.

The hall was lined with doors, each marked with a simple sign of 'storage.' Millie's heart sank as she counted them. There were at least seven rooms, far more than she had been expecting.

"Which one is it?" Millie asked.

"You think I know?" Matthew said with a stifled laugh.

Rolling her eyes, Millie stepped forward and pressed her torch against the window of the door closest to her. She cupped her hand against the glass and peered in, squinting through the grime. Against the darkness, it was hard to make sense of what was inside. It took a minute, but eventually, her eyes adjusted. From what she could see, it was just old ration boxes.

"Not this one," she said, stepping back with a sigh.

"Not this one either," Matthew said. He'd gone to inspect the door across from Millie. "Just looks like a bunch of old furniture."

Millie stepped around him to check for herself. It was dark in this room too, but she could make out a leaning tangle of metal bed frames, much like the ones in the dorms upstairs.

"What, you don't trust me?" Matthew said as Millie stepped back, raising an eyebrow at her.

"It's n-not that," Millie said. "I just wanted to be sure."

Matthew shook his head. "I'm here to help, remember? You don't have time to check my work. The nun will be looking for you by now."

He didn't wait for her response before he turned and headed further down the hall, choosing one of the other doors to inspect.

Millie felt her cheeks burn as she followed him to do the same. To be honest, she still wasn't quite sure why Matthew had agreed to help her. When she had proposed they go looking for Petra's file in the nun's archives, she had half expected him to laugh in her face, or tell her off for her stupidity, or, worst of all, rat her out to the nuns to protect his position.

Instead, after a moment of careful thought, he'd agreed.

However, he hadn't told her why.

Was it because he had his own suspicions?

Or did he pity the sad, lonely girl who was losing her mind?

Whatever the reason, she didn't care. If it was pity, for once, she didn't mind.

As long as they were also willing to help.

Again Millie pressed her torch to another door's grimy window, staring into the dark...

Her heart jumped into her throat.

Deep in darkness was a line of metal filing cabinets surrounded by mountains of dust-covered file boxes.

This was the room.

"Here!" she called to Matthew. She tried the handle, but of course, it was locked.

Matthew hurried over. He pushed her aside and once again unhooked his keyring. He began trying his keys one by one, but key after key, none of them seemed to be working.

Matthew let out a foul word under his breath. "I... I don't think I have a key for this room."

"What?" Millie hissed. as a chill took hold of her insides. "What are we going to do?"

"I don't—"

He stopped mid-sentence and went still.

"What is it?" Millie whispered.

Matthew said nothing. Instead, he grabbed Millie and shoved her against the wall and stepped in front of her, nearly crushing her into place. Millie wanted to shove him off, but she stopped struggling as understanding dawned on her.

Someone was headed their way.

She could hear their footsteps echoing on the flagstone floor.

The footsteps stopped at the end of the narrow hall.

"Matthew?"

Behind Matthew, Millie couldn't see much, but she thought she recognized the gruff voice. She was pretty sure it was George, the groundskeeper and Matthew's superior.

"Why, I was just coming to check on you," George said, letting out a rumbling laugh. "I was going to ask if you were feeling well enough for some dinner."

"I don't think so," Matthew said, though it came out a little too quick. Millie noticed he was leaning hard into the wall, acting as though it was doing the lion's share of holding him up.

"Stomach still bothering you?" George asked.

"Yeah," Matthew agreed.

There was a beat of heavy silence, and the steps started up again as they closed in.

"You do look awful, my dear boy," George said. "You really should be in bed. What are you doing down here, rifling through the store rooms?"

Another shiver shook through Millie. She was so close to Matthew that she could feel his heartbeat thrumming through the muscles of his back.

"I... I..." Matthew sputtered. "I was looking for an old bucket. You know, in case..."

"Of course, of course," George said with a guffaw as if it was all very funny. "Why don't you ask one of the maids? Surely one of them has a bucket you could borrow."

"I doubt they'd want it back after I'm through with it," Matthew said with a small laugh of his own. "And besides I think I already found one. I just need to get the door open." He jangled the keys in his hand.

"Do you... need help?" George asked. Millie couldn't tell if he was concerned... or suspicious.

"No, no," Matthew said. "I'm not an invalid yet. I've got enough strength to manage it. And besides, I don't want you to get too close, in case whatever I have is catching."

"Hmm, too true," George said, and thankfully, he stepped back. "Well, if you insist. But be sure to give me a holler if you need anything."

"I-I will," Matthew agreed, letting out a small sigh of relief. His heartbeat was beginning to slow.

"I'll ask the cook to put aside some dinner for you, too. In case you get your appetite back."

"Thanks, George," Matthew said, raising his hand to wave him off.

The footsteps retreated. Matthew stayed in position a moment longer before he folded forward, releasing Millie from her pinned position against the wall. He let out a deeper sigh.

"That was close," he breathed.

"Too close," Millie said. He may seem relieved, but her nerves felt like they were on fire. "Maybe we should give up for now, and head back up. If you don't have the key, then—"

"Not so fast," Matthew said. "I have an idea."

Before Millie could object, he reached towards her. She flinched back, but he was faster. He reached into her hair and pulled out the hairpin that was keeping her fringe out of her face, letting her curls tumble across her eyes.

"Hey!" she hissed, sweeping the now loose hair out of the way.

"Shh," he whispered back, not looking at her. He was busy bending the pin back. After a few moments of fiddling, he seemed pleased with its new shape and jammed it into the lock. His eyes went out of focus as he twisted and turned at the handle as the pin dug deeper.

The lock popped, and the door gave.

Matthew grinned down at her. "There we go."

Millie eyed him, impressed. "Where'd you learn to that?"

"We can't all be as innocent as the nuns, can we?" Matthew said, smirking now as he pushed open the door.