On Saturday morning, I had already stowed all the returns except for the classics and was halfway through dismantling the improvised wall of sitting cubes. At eight sharp, Paco arrived as promised to help me sort out the mess from the previous day.

"Hey Lynn, you're already at work. How are you?"

"Fine, but then I wasn't the one getting buried under a heap of heavy literature yesterday. What about Conny? Have you heard of her?"

"She should be fine too, according to the doctor, but she won't come to work today. Between the doc's assistant, Amber, and me, we persuaded her to heed the medical advice and stay home for at least another day."

I imagined that this hadn't been easy. "I'm glad she didn't get stubborn about coming in."

He grinned and slipped out of his jacket. "Who said she didn't? That woman can be determined, but it's one trait I admire about her. Shall we see what we can find at the crime scene?"

"Sure, and I already secured some quite damning evidence for you, Sherlock." I set down the cube I had been holding and pointed out the pegs I'd discovered Friday afternoon.

"Nice work, Watson—now we just have to deduce where they belong and why they were removed from their regular place."

"I know, and I was tempted to search for the other manipulated shelves, but I didn't dare while I was alone yesterday evening."

He raised his brows. "I told you not to risk anything. It's far too dangerous, and it doesn't help anyone if our third librarian ends in hospital, too."

"Thanks for caring, but I'm only an assistant librarian."

Paco shook his head. "Which doesn't mean you're expendable. Know what? You need to work on your self-esteem, young lady. Was it that prick the other day who got you believing you're unworthy?"

"Oliver? I guess he's part of the problem—okay, according to Becca, he is the major problem, period. However, I was faring much better since the day Marjorie offered me this job. So it was a kind of shock when Oliver intruded into this safe bubble."

"I can understand that. Anyway, both Conny and Marjorie appreciate you and value your work, and so do I. Never forget that."

"Thanks, I won't." I'd couldn't remember anyone telling me something so important in such a casual way. Emotion overwhelmed me and I hurried to change the topic. "So, how do we proceed?"

"Let's work our way from the front to the back and top to bottom, with only one of us near the shelves, while the other watches out, right?"

"Right." With due caution, we checked the shelves and found five more with a missing front peg each, threatening to tip over and unload their weight of books as soon as someone manipulated them.

Paco frowned and touched one of the treacherous shelves, careful to support its load. "Can you hand me a peg? I think I can fit it back in without taking all the books off."

I shook my head. "If you lift the weight, I will replace the peg. Just make sure you don't trigger the one below. It's unstable too."

He nodded, and I slid the tiny metal part into place while he secured the shelf. Relief it was lipped in without a problem washed through me. "One down, but several more to go."

"True, but we know how it's done now."

He was right. It went easier from then on. Together, we had finished the job and cleaned up the book avalanche from the floor long before the library opened. I sorted out the damaged books in need of repair while Paco carried the sitting cubes back to the front area. When the library looked its normal self, a load lifted from my shoulders.

"Thanks a lot. I'm feeling much better now. May I offer you a tea or a coffee?"

"Coffee would be lovely, thanks. With Marjorie as a staunch the tea drinker, it's refreshing to have another coffee addict around."

He leaned against Conny's desk, and we chatted about banalities while I prepared two cups. The moment I handed him his, I saw Cat sitting only centimetres from him on the desktop. I fought to hold on to the cup without spilling the liquid, but I didn't understand how Paco stayed so calm.

He took the cup and smiled. "Thanks."

True, he can't see the Cheshire Cat, of course.

Cat pulled a face at me and blinked his emerald eyes like always when he wanted something from me. "Don't look as if you'd swallowed your tongue, Lynn, but ask him about his progress with Conny, please."

I rolled my eyes and shook my head, glad Paco was busy adding milk to his coffee, not looking at me.

Cat put on a pout and turned his back. Unaware of our exchange, Paco sipped his coffee and checked his watch. "Excellent coffee, but I can't stay much longer. Will you be fine alone here? I could check in around ten, if you like."

As if I ever were alone in this place. "Don't worry, I'm glad you found the time to help me sort out that shelf debacle. I just hope we don't have another class of jokers in here soon."

He handed me the empty cup and snorted. "I can't help blaming myself for going on about the importance of the perfect lighting in photography while they were as interested as a swarm of jellyfish in astrophysics."

"And here I was worrying I bored those kids to death with my speech about reading as an irreplaceable part of education." My uneasy laugh turned genuine when he joined in.

Turning more serious again, Paco reached out to touch my arm. "At least nothing worse happened. Conny will recover, and she asked me to assure you she will be here on Monday morning. I also promised her I'd think of a way to prevent another disaster. We might glue in the pegs or use screwable ones—I'll find something."

"Thanks. In the meantime, I should probably distribute hard hats to our visitors."

"Neat idea. Perhaps put up a sign on the entrance—entry at your own risk, head protection mandatory." His chuckle was still as attractive as on the first day I met him. But to my surprise, I saw him as Conny's man now and found my former infatuation childish. Perhaps I was growing up after all.

After he left, I returned to the back of the library to check the shelves one more time when I got help from an unexpected side.

"What are you looking for?" Luca leaned against the shelf we had repaired only half an hour ago, his striking blue eyes on me.

"Just checking if all the pegs are where they belong to prevent another accident on my shift."

"Oh, the hubbub yesterday. I watched the two youngsters pry out the pegs, but couldn't stop them. When your friend placed a book on a manipulated shelf, I wanted to warn her, shouted at her and even tried to push her aside—but she cannot see me. I hope she is fine?"

"From what Paco told me, yes. Do you remember which shelves were affected?"

"I think I do." He pointed them out to me without hesitation.

Paco and I had missed one, but the peg in question was still halfway in place and I could replace it as soon as I'd taken the load from the shelf. The ghost stood beside me, eager but incapable of helping me.

"Thanks a lot, Luca."

"My pleasure. Glad to be of help." He smiled, and I would have loved to offer him a coffee too, just to spend more time with him—and tell him about the manuscript. As it was, the door chime announced customers, and he faded away before I found the right words. Perhaps it was better if he didn't know about my find before I had spoken to Marjorie, anyway.

At noon, I closed the library, bought a sandwich on my way to the station, and took the train to the rehab centre to pay my boss a visit. I found her in the common room, reading.

"Lynn, what a pleasant surprise. How are you?"

"I'm fine, thanks. And how are you?" Before I could pull up a chair, she stood up, using her crutches.

"Do you mind if we take a walk? Not far, just up and down the aisle, or even better, let's head to the cafeteria for a cup of tea. The nurses insist I need to move the new hip as much as possible."

"Tea sounds good." I had already drunken too much coffee. "I'm surprised and impressed by how fast you're on your feet again."

"Thanks, dearie. It's amazing what the doctors can do these days. But how are you faring? I can see that something troubles your mind."

"It's a long story." We had reached a bright room with a glass front towards the garden. "I'll tell it to you over tea. Let me get it first."

"Alright. Let's sit close to the window."

I pulled out a chair for her, and she sat down with a sigh. Before I answered her question, I fetched a pot of black tea and filled a cup for her.

"Thanks, Lynn, that's very considerate. So, what's ailing you?"

"I'm worried about Conny. She had an accident yesterday when some kids removed several shelf pegs." Marjorie's shocked face made me stop. "Sorry, I should have told you first that she is fine. I talked to Amber on my way here, and she confirmed her mother got away with a nasty bruise and a scare, not even a concussion, according to the doctor."

"I'm glad to hear. So what is it that bothers you, then?"

I sighed and pulled the manuscript from my backpack. "When I searched for the first aid kit, I found this in her desk."

Marjorie took the stack of paper with a frown and began reading, looking up at me after the first paragraph.

"Is this Conny's?"

"I believe it is, since I found it in her drawer. Of course, I shouldn't have taken it, but with Luca as a permanent guest in the library, I needed to know. I'll put it back tonight, promise."

Marjorie leaved through the pages and nodded. "Yes, I remember how she used to sit on the sofa and write on her laptop during the slow morning hours. She never told me what her story was about, but I should have guessed, with Luca becoming a regular visitor in the library."

"That's what I thought. If I can convince her to finish the story, do you think it will set him free?"

"Luca?" She stared into her cup for a moment with half-closed eyes. "I guess it would, but I'm not sure Conny will appreciate being reminded of this part of her life."

I had feared as much, but I needed to know more, for Luca's sake. "Can you tell me more about it?"

Marjorie stirred her cup. "Well, during Conny's first years at the library, she was not unlike you, motivated and eager, with a sunny personality and a vivid imagination."

While I had trouble imagining Conny with anything more than a slight smile, I didn't doubt Marjorie's description. "And then she changed and lost it?"

The librarian's face darkened. "Yes—it started when her husband Marcel became ill and the worries overwhelmed her. She's still the same Conny, just that the severe blows life dealt her extinguished her spark."

She paused, but I kept quiet, waiting for her to sip some tea and pick up the thread.

"Please understand that during the time of Marcel's illness, Conny gave everything to help him and bring up their two children. But allowing them to grow up in a caring home came at a price. I still hope she will recover and find new happiness one day. Who knows, if she does, she might take up writing again."

I nodded, wondering if it was so simple. For Luca, I hoped it was.