Just as she said, Mari runs up a pretty convincing Student ID on the library card printer. By the time she's finished it looks exactly like mine. With a quiet but genuine "thanks" Lynch slips the ID into the side pocket of a small canvas purse Mari found for her in the Lost Property box. Closing time has gone by now, and we can finally come out of the back room and stretch our legs. It's just us and Mari in the library. It feels so surreal. It feels as if I've stepped right outside of everything I've ever known.
"Right," says Mari. "I'm going to go get your ticket now. It'll look suspicious if I come back to the library after hours, so I'll order it and have it ready to pick up at the machine at the station. You'll just need the reference number, which I'll text to you, Laura. You can leave out of the fire exit when morning comes; I've switched off the alarm."
"Right," I say, trying to sound casual. "No problem."
Mari turns to Lynch. We're in the lobby of the library, behind the desk. It's dark, but I can still see that Mari's expression is intent. She reaches into her purse and presses a fold of notes into Lynch's hand. "You'll need money," she says, and when Lynch immediately starts to protest at the amount, she adds forcefully, "Just take it. You'll be grateful of it later on."
"Thank you," says Lynch, sounding abashed. She adds the notes to the side pocket of her bag.
"Well," says Mari, and lets out a long breath. "You must call me when you get home Laura, just to let me know it all went okay."
"I will. Promise." Mari hugs me again and then, more tentatively, Lynch as well. The girl looks a little uncomfortable, but pleased, as if she isn't used to human touch. Then Mari heads for the door to the library. Just before she goes she turns one last time and waves. The expression on her face is carefully set, and in that moment I feel a powerful rush of gratitude for her, for everything she's done to help us, to save us. It's not something there's time for now, but I make a promise to myself to tell her someday just how much it has meant.
"Good luck," says Mari. "Be careful." And then she's gone. We hear the doors lock behind her.
Me and Lynch are alone in the vacant library. Outside, it is just beginning to get dark, the streetlights flickering on one by one. Lynch takes a few steps to one of the swivel chairs behind the desk and slumps down into it.
"I hope we can trust her," she says. She sounds tired.
"We can," I assure her. "I'd trust her with my life."
Lynch nods, biting her lip as if in thought. "She was . . . kind," she says eventually.
I take the swivel chair opposite Lynch and draw myself up close to her. For a few hours now the germ of an idea has been burning in my brain, but I had to wait for Mari to go before I could discuss it with Lynch. Now the moment is here I feel a tiny grain of doubt. For a second, just a second, I actually want to go home. But then I remember that home without Darren is no longer the place it used to be.
I take a deep breath. "Listen, Lynch," I say. "I'm coming with you."
