But looking at Marjorie, I felt a cold knot form in my stomach.

She was too calm. She was giving up too easily.

“Let me read the terms,” I said, reaching for the paper.

“No,” Marjorie said, placing her hand over it. “You sign it now, or the offer is gone.”

“I am not signing anything without Julian reviewing it,” I said.

“He is standing right outside,” she said. “Bring him in, let him read it, and then we burn the book.”

I stood there, the weight of the decision pressing down on my chest.

Then, from the hallway, I heard the sound of a raised voice.

It was Julian. He sounded angry.

“You can’t go in there,” Julian was saying.

I walked to the door and pulled it open.

Julian was standing near the library entrance, his hand extended to stop Graham.

But Graham wasn’t trying to enter our room.

He was standing near the entrance of the library, holding a brass key that looked exactly like the one Marjorie used for her desk drawer.

His face was pale, and he looked startled to see me open the door.