“You breathed near it,” I snapped.
A faintchirpsounded from above us, almost like a clock trying to get our attention. Parker’s face dropped.
“Oh no,” he muttered.
The chirp escalated into a high, insistent tone. Red lights flared along the crown molding. The security system caught it.
“Run!” I barked before thinking.
But before chaos could fully take over, something caught my eye…a glint of gold behind the desk, barely visible through the shadows. I froze, squinting. There, half hidden behind a framed diploma and a row of dusty law books, sat a narrow glass cabinet recessed in the wall. A single light flickered weakly inside, illuminating the edge of a black, leather-bound ledger.
“I think this could be it!” I shouted.
“Grab it and go,” Parker ordered.
I grabbed a crystal paperweight from the desk and swung it against the glass. The first blow scored a spiderweb crack that shimmered in the red light. The second hit splintered it. The third shattered the panel with a spray of glittering shards.
I shoved my arm through, a cut on my palm blooming hot, and hauled the book free. It was heavier than it looked, the leather cold and smelling faintly of dust and disinfectant. I tucked it under my arm and sprinted for the door as the alarm rose to a scream, and the ceiling lights strobed angry red.
From the hallway, someone shouted, “Security! Who’s in there?”
I froze mid-step, one hand on the doorknob, heart slamming against my ribs.
“Window!” Parker barked.
He was already there, wrenching it open, the night air cutting through the blaring alarm. Jace climbed out first, muttering, “I was just kidding about the hot mugshot. I can’t handle prison.”
“Move!” I hissed.
The door burst open behind me. “Stop!” a voice yelled.
Yeah, that wasn’t happening.
Parker dove through the window next. I was right behind him, one arm clamped around the leather ledger like it was a newborn. My sneakers hit the fire escape with a metallicclang. The ladder groaned under our weight.
Jace was already halfway down, his voice echoing up the metal frame. “Pretty sure my hoodie just ripped again!”
“Cry later!” I shouted, vaulting over the last rung.
We hit the ground running, alarms still wailing above. The night exploded into noise—flashing red security lights, radios squawking, the slap of our sneakers across wet grass.
“This way!” Parker yelled, cutting left across the green.
I followed, lungs burning, my heartbeat slamming against my ribs. Jace pounded along beside me, somehow grinning through it. “You know what’s crazy?” He gasped. “We’re technically stealing from a rival school. That’s the definition of school spirit!”
I rolled my eyes.
A beam of light swept across the lawn behind us. A guard shouted something about “trespassers.”
Jace whispered, “Do we qualify as trespassers if we’re technically on a mission from a secret society?”
“Yes!” Parker snapped under his breath.
We ducked behind a row of hedges as the beam passed over. My chest heaved, sweat slick under my hoodie. Somewhere to the right, sprinklers kicked on, hissing like snakes.
“Who the hell waters grass at two a.m.?” Jace wheezed.
“Rich people,” I muttered.
