New Romantics

Chapter 20

Through the newly restored glass, I gazed into Paperbound, half-surprised to see that the shop looked exactly how I left it the night of the break-in. Sunlight gilded the golden spines of occult books, candles, crystals, and other magical finery displayed for Halloween, spilling onto the newly restored persian rug just behind it, warm and serene.

When I stepped inside, Magda was at the counter, a phone pressed to her ear, and she lifted her eyes briefly, smiling, and punched something into the register.

"Yes, yes, yes," she said, waving her hands. "We have plenty. With the discount, you'll get all three for sixty dollars. Do you want me to hold them? Excellent. I'll see you soon!"

"Everything looks great," I said when she hung up. "It's like nothing happened."

Magda sighed, her expression wary. "My boys work quickly. Thank goodness for them."

Heavy footsteps rustled overhead, and I glanced at the second floor, expecting to see a spectral figure fussing with the shelves again. Much to my surprise, the figure was not of the Dead. Judging by their immaculate suits, the two figures were from the university.

"They're moving the book," she explained. There was a thread of irritation in her voice. "They suspect the thieves wanted Wuthering Heights. Why these thieves couldn't just come in and buy a perfectly good edition is beside me." She gestured to a stack of volumes by the stairs.

I hated the way she looked so defeated. As though she opened the door and let the thieves in herself. Or that this attempted robbery was some sort of stain on her character.

Dropping my bag beside the counter, I rounded her chair and squeezed her in a tight hug. "Any idea who did it?"

She reciprocated the hug with a bone-crushing squeeze herself. "The police have their suspicions. A couple of boys in terrible disguises. I don't mean to sound like a crab apple but it upsets me more than I think it should. You'd think that growing up with a silver spoon in your mouth, access to the finest art and literature in the world, would make you more respectful of these sorts of things."

I frowned. I couldn't relate. Couldn't imagine a world where my mistakes would be a simple drop in the bucket, and the sky wouldn't fall on my head. It was just another thing that made me all too aware of my place at Oracle, and how high the stakes were to leave this place better than ever before.

"It makes them entitled," Leo said from the door. The bell wasn't working yet and our eyes locked across the shop. "They've gotten away with so much because of Mommy and Daddy's money that consequences and respect mean nothing. They don't want the book because it's a priceless piece of literature. They want it because they're entitled to it. And they think that even if someone tries to make them pay, they've got deeper pockets and they can get away with it."

"Even if they were sued by the university?" Magda murmured.

"Donors don't like to be bothered. They just like to be wined, dined, and get someone named after them so they can gloat about it at the next event."

No real world consequences and money, I realized with a sinking feeling in my stomach, meant that even if the vandals were caught, nothing of true substance would happen to them. Anger flared through me. Two systems of justice: one for the rich and powerful, and one for everyone else.

Huffing, Magda waved her hands and muttered what sounded like a prayer under her breath in Spanish, disappearing in her office. Grabbing the nearest stack of books from the reshelving cart, I said,

"I should probably start putting these away before closing."

Closing. Which was four hours from now.