friendly in her voice now.
I stepped back. “I … if he has a journal, it’s probably in his safe.” I glanced toward the fireplace before I could stop myself. When I looked back at her, there was a smile on her lips.
“Please,” I said. “We should go.”
Her foot kicked out and she spun around in his chair again. She looked curious when she came back around. “What is a safe?”
My hands were flat on the desktop now, me on one side, her on the other.
“You don’t know what a safe is?” I frowned. “Where in Japan are you from?”
She spun the chair again. “Who said I was from Japan?”
“You’re visiting here, you speak Japanese, and you’re wearing a Japanese school uniform!”
Her shoe hit the edge of the desk and the chair stopped dead.
“Then of course I am from Japan.” She smiled, and a hint of red tinged her cheeks. “My family lives far from the city, so I seldom see modern things. That is why I do not know what a safe is.”
“A safe is a strong steel box with a complicated lock—it’s impossible to break into.” I stood up straighter. “Now let’s go.”
She looked at me with big innocent eyes and then pulled the bottom desk drawer open with her shoe.
“I think it is in here.” Her eyes held mine, daring me to stop her. When I didn’t, she let out a deep sigh. “I did not imagine this would be so easy.”
My stomach was in knots. What was I going to do, beat her up?
She reached into the drawer, to the very back, and withdrew a leather-bound book. It was a journal, the cover worn and darkened from years of use.
“How did you know?” I said.
“I could feel it speaking his words.”
My mouth dropped open.
“I came a long way to get this, Junya. I will read it.” Her expression softened. “But I will return it, I promise you.”
My hands went to my temples. “So … you planned all this?”
Shoko nodded. “I want to see if Edward wrote about my mother.”
“Why would he write about your mother!?”
She sighed. “My mother was in love with Edward.”
If my jaw hadn’t already been on the floor, it was now. I was dumbfounded but growing angry. “You’re wrong.”
She waved a hand, dismissing my comment. “I want to know what Edward thought. Did he know she loved him? Does he regret losing her, or did he throw her memory away as he has done with everything else he loves?”
“There’s no way my grandpa knew your mother!” I felt something build inside me, a swelling in my chest. “Put the journal back—we’re leaving!”
She clutched the book to her chest like a little girl. “Please, I will give it back. I promise.”
I wasn’t falling for it. “No way. You tricked me. Now put it back.” I tried to sound strong, but the energy was already slipping away from me.
Shoko stood up and faced me and we stared at each other. Beads of sweat ran down my sides as my antiperspirant failed. Then I remembered the emergency button on his desk, within my reach, and a smug smile spread across my face. “One last chance,” I said.
She took a step back to where she’d left her backpack beside the desk and leaned toward the drawer, but her eyes never left mine.
“Have you ever been in love, Junya?”
“I … well, no. I mean …” I glanced away.
The drawer slammed closed.
A wave of relief swept through me—she wasn’t holding the journal. She must have put it back in the desk. She shouldered her backpack.
“He should have chosen love over gold,” Shoko whispered.
I turned toward the fireplace, toward the painting with the steel safe behind it. There were gold bars inside that Grandpa had showed me when I was little. But how did she know?
When I looked back, Shoko was near the door.
“I am sorry about my behavior.” She bowed low and her braids tumbled over her shoulders.
“You should be.” I pointed toward the stairs. “Now let’s go.”
We went downstairs in a silence so dense that I could hear my heart beating. She kept her head