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Chapter 35

"We have to make this quick," I said as the front doors slid aside with an airy shh. "If I'm not home when my dad wakes up and I still have a tattoo, he'll put me in the Trinity grave himself." I inhaled the comforting ink and old paper smell, hoping to ease my nerves. "They're open? It's like 5:30 in the morning."

"They're open all the time for Trammelers," Tram said.

A man with glasses behind the front desk carried a stack of books to a nearby cart. He didn't have any hair to put in his mouth like the librarian I was used to.

I sighed. Ms. Hansen and Mrs. Rios had vanished. I'd tried to call both of them countless times yesterday to see if Mrs. Rios was all right, but neither of them answered.

The man stopped and blinked. "Our Trammeler. Can I help you with something?"

"No thank you, Jim." We rounded the corner of a large display of new books. Their flashy covers glared under the fluorescent lights. Tram looked straight ahead, his shoulders squared and rigid.