Eventually, Devorah watched the three come to a close on their conversation. They agreed to continue searching the room, following the pattern of starting at the perimeter and closing in. There was one anomaly, though.
Georgie went over to the book Devorah managed to throw from the bookshelf. “Hey, you think there’s anything good in this?”
Devorah walked to Georgie and leaned over, looking at the book over her shoulder. The cover was plain leather embossed with gold. It was probably just set dressing. When she opened it, the text seemed fairly standard. No obvious strange print or underlined portions.
“Is that the book the ghost threw?” Jacob stepped over and without warning, stood almost exactly where Devorah was.
For less than a second, Devorah felt a strange pressure unlike any she had felt before. She could feel the places where she and Jacob intersected- shoulder to thigh. And it felt like falling into a wind tunnel, a propeller, a turbine. Like blinking out and into existence again.
One second, and Devorah was there. The next, she was innumerable- nanobots flicking apart. And on the third she came together again about a foot away, as whole as someone like her could be. Something like her could be.
Every time Devorah forgot she was dead, something else would happen to remind her. To reinforce it. She was invisible, and she was alone.
“I just got a weird chill up my spine,” Jacob said. Devorah could barely make the words out through the cotton in her ears.
“Do you think it was the ghost?” Georgie asked, eyes wide.
Yes, it was the damn ghost. Devorah leaned over and wheezed silently.
“Are we sure it was a ghost?” Kefilwe asked.
“I know what I saw!” Georgie protested hotly. “Or what I didn’t saw!”
“See.” Jacob correctly halfheartedly.
Georgie thrust the book into Jacob’s hands. “I know you want to see!”
Kefilwe’s head tilted. “What did it say, Georgie?”
As far as Devorah had seen, nothing of interest. Then she was practically exorcized into the ether so what did she really know.
Interestingly, Georgie paused. Red faced, she looked towards Jacob. Then she coughed.
“Right!” Jacob said. “Let’s take a look.”
Jacob read a page aloud, and as promised, there really was no obvious clue or even anything interesting. Slowly, the deep red faded from Georgie’s cheeks as she looked anywhere aside from Jacob and the book.
Kefilwe nodded, her hair bobbing with it. “Seems like a normal book to me. Maybe a combination of unsteady, old furniture and a drafty house made it seem like a ghost threw it?”
No! Devorah groaned, shaking off her unease from the whole dissolving situation. No, a ghost did throw it!
“Oh, hey! Maybe like, the ghost wanted us to look at the bookshelf or something?” Jacob offered, slamming the book closed. Even knowing it was just a useless prop book, Devorah winced. “I totally felt a chill down my spine when I touched the book. That has to mean something. Right Georgie?”
Georgie did not answer.
“Georgie?”
Georgie’s head was strangely contorted. She was leaning to the side, and her head was completely tilted towards the direction of the bookcase. For a moment, Devorah felt her heart freeze in her chest. Then Georgie straightened herself.
“I may be mad, but it looks like there’s something on the bookshelf. Behind where the book was.” Devorah looked at Georgie like she grew a second head. There was no way. Devorah’s luck had never been that good.
Kefilwe went over to the shelf and looked in. “Georgie’s right! There’s some kind of indent. Maybe if we…” Systematically, Kefilwe removed the books on the shelf and stacked them next to her.
Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.
Lo and behold, there was some kind of handle. Made of the same wood as the bookcase, it blended in near completely. The handle was almost more of an indent in the wood, the perfect shape for someone with a small hand to grab.
Unthinking, Devorah reached out and went to grab the handle. Her hand passed through. She remembered herself and withdrew.
“A handle?” Kefilwe said.
“Look at that!” Jacob went over and tried to fit his hand in the indent, but it was too big to fit. Devorah was just glad that she had already moved out of the way. She wasn’t looking to repeat the incident with dematerialization any time soon. “Huh, my hand doesn’t fit.”
“Let me try, then!” Kefilwe offered with a smile. Thankfully, her hand was small enough to fit into the indent and grab on. Jiggling the handle with a focused expression, Kefilwe moved it in all directions before sliding it to the left. The bookcase and the wall behind it moved, revealing a small, hidden room.
While the office had a sense of luxury, this small room was nearly barren. All the furniture within was wooden, with no drapes or cushions to be found. The entrance to the cubby had small engravings of leaves interspersed with more roses. The ceiling was low, much lower than the ceiling in the office.
“What is this?” Kefilwe asked. “A storage room?”
“Kind of reminds me of a priest hole.” Georgie said.
“A what?”
“Some of the old houses had them. It was for Catholics.” Georgie began to explain. “Back when England became Protestant, a lot of the rich folk didn’t want to convert. They kept being Catholic in secret. But sometimes there’d be investigations into them. So if a priest was there while the cops were looking, there were little rooms and holes to hide them in. Make sure they weren’t found.”
“It could also be a panic room,” Jacob added, stepping in. “Like, for if they were going to be robbed or attacked.”
It would also be a great tool for a locked room murder. There weren't any in Devorah’s game, but they were always popular. This would be a great set-up for one. Lock the office door, kill someone, then hide in the panic room. Wait for the body to be found, then sneak out once no one’s looking.
On the surface, Georgie, Jacob and Kefilwe didn’t seem like murderers. But they could be hiding their true faces.
Kefilwe studied the engravings. “These leaves look like yew, maybe? And willow.”
“Do you know what they mean in plant language?”
“Sorry, I don’t! But we can go back into the main room and try and find a reference book? Though the library doesn’t seem to be well organized.” Kefilwe hummed to herself. “I’ll do my best though! And I could always ask Nour or Mathilde, they might know!”
Georgie coughed. “I don’t know how you can spend so much time with Nour, they’re right scary.”
Kefilwe laughed sweetly. “Oh, that’s just their costume! They’re so kind and knowledgeable beneath the beak.”
“I don’t know,” Georgie said, hesitant, “they told me that my cough came from humors out of whack. Doesn’t sound very knowledgeable to me.”
Jacob shook his head. “Georgie, we shouldn’t judge people who come from less developed times. It’s not their fault that they come from more primitive eras and don’t have the education we do.”
Georgie’s face turned red again. She looked away. Based on her costume and the fact that she worked as a maid in a manor house, Devorah would bet that she didn’t have much in the way of formal education. If any, to be honest.
Kefilwe made a clicking sound with her tongue. “I don’t know if that’s a good way to think about it. I bet Nour would know how to use leaves like those to help people. Or at least be able to tell us what they can do or mean symbolically.”
Jacob raised an eyebrow. “I dunno, I’d take modern medicine over some crushed up leaves any day.”
Kefilwe opened her mouth to say something, but then closed it, clearly deciding against it. Sensible. There was no arguing with people like that. Jacob couldn’t even see how upset his companion Georgie was getting.
Devorah hoped she could see his face when he learned about medicine from her own time and place. Medicine in the 3000s was very different from the butchery of the 2000s.
“Anyway,” Jacob continued, “I’m ready to keep looking around.”
“Me too,” Georgie said, clearly glad that the conversation was ending.
Kefilwe smiled in agreement, and that was that.
Devorah wasn’t confident they’d find anything else interesting in the office, but she was still loath to see them go. After they left, who knew how long it would take for another group to investigate the office? Devorah didn’t want to be alone. True, these people couldn’t see her. Or hear her. Or interact with her in any meaningful way. But they were distracting.
Devorah didn’t want to be alone with only her thoughts for company.
Even still, Devorah felt herself stiffen when Jacob finally came to the desk and saw her glasses. Every fiber of her being called for her to manifest and smack the frames out of his hands.
When he thumbed over the bloodstain on the rim, Devorah felt her chest tighten. Barely, just barely, she was able to keep herself from charging up. She didn’t want to risk Jacob dropping her glasses, or even worse, breaking them.
But oh, how she wanted to.
The feeling only intensified when, without warning, Jacob slid them into the pocket of his jeans. He had not told Kefilwe or Georgie about them. Neither of them would have even a hint that Jacob had done anything suspicious either- Kefilwe was closing the panic room up again and Georgie was busy taking apart another bookcase.
A grim air settled over Devorah. You know what? Good. Let Jacob think her glasses were important. Devorah wasn’t sure what she would do if they broke.