Chapter 11: A Brave Retreat

They studied the baseboard with a renewed sense of purpose, looking for any irregularity, any loose panel, any protruding lever, anything that may indicate a secret message. Hours passed into minutes, and as time went on, their irritation grew. Marie was ready to give up when Olivia triumphantly wept. She had discovered a little, quite imperceptible depression in the wood at the corner. Her fingers trembled as she pushed it. There was a pleasant click in the room, and then there was a little grinding noise. A part of the bookcase, indistinguishable from the others, moved inward, exposing a cramped, darkened passageway. Marie caught her breath. That was it. John's last words, tucked up behind his study's walls. After exchanging anxious looks, they took hold of an oil lantern that was close by and entered the hallway. The secret room was small and dirty, not even big enough for them to go shoulder to shoulder. The scent of dampness and abandoned items lingered heavily in the air