Page 52 of Midnight Wedding

“Urban exploration,” I correct and wave my spoon in the air. A little soup splatters on my shirt, and I rub it off with my hand. “It was just a hobby. I don’t even do it anymore.”

“That’s like crawling around in the dark looking for graffiti, right?”

“Sort of. I was more into looking around in old, abandoned buildings.”

“Lots of those in Baltimore. Not too many out here though.” She pushes her lips together. “Although there is the old post office.”

My eyebrows raise. I try my best not to look too interested, but I’m doing a shitty job. “Where’s that?”

“It was an elementary school twenty years ago. Then they turned it into the post office. But then they moved into a newer and bigger building, and the old post office is sitting there empty.” She shakes her head at me. “Don’t you worry about it though. There’s no way Arsen would ever let you go near that place.”

“It’s dangerous?” I’m practically salivating at the thought.

“Not exactly.” She hesitates and sighs. “Don’t do something stupid, dear, please?”

“I’d never.” I beam at her, puffing up my chest.

And she can see right through me. “Just swear that when he catches you, you won’t mention my name.”

“Never,” I say quickly.

She gives me a disapproving glare, but she says there’s a package waiting for me in the front hall when I’m done eating, then goes back to straightening up. I thank her, throw back the last of my soup, and hurry to grab my box.

Back up in my room, I tear it open and dump out the contents. A small, clear lock, a leather pouch, and a laminated book titledBeginner’s Lockpicking Essentials. I’m practically giddy with excitement as I pick up my tools and flip to the first page.

The problem with having everything is it gets boring very quickly.

I love that I don’t need to stress about daily stuff anymore. No more cooking, no more cleaning, no more scrubbing my own clothes when I get clumsy or careless and get a stain on a pair of white jeans. Now there’s staff to do everything for me.

But that also means I have so much time on my hands and not a whole lot to do.

I explored every inch of the house in the first couple of days. Every room, every weird hallway, all the twisting passages and narrow closets. This place really is like a crazy person’s idea of a mansion.

Everywhere, except the off-limits wing.

That door’s shut solid. I tried a couple of times to jam it open and even used the credit card trick, but no luck. Which is howI ended up watching videos on lockpicking on YouTube and bought some picks and a clear practice lock from one of the influencers.

I know it’s a bad idea. I’m going to do something dumb and get myself in trouble. But the thrill I feel as I figure out how to rake the pins and twist the tumbler makes me ignore all that.

Thisis what I love. Finding ways to get places I’m not supposed to.

And now at least I have a project.

There’s a big,full moon outside when I slip through the back door. I’m nervous, but I’ve gone over this plan a dozen times in my head. Security is facingoutward. They’re on the hunt for people sneaking in, not for someone sneaking out. I hurry through the back garden, reach the tall back fence, and climb over. I drop to the other side, crouch in the bushes for a full minute before hurrying through the underbrush. It takes a few minutes before I reach a main road, but once I orient myself, it’s not hard to figure out where to go.

Roland Park is safe. I stroll along a wide sidewalk and look up at the old houses hidden behind big trees. The air is so clear and crisp out here. Even though it’s still Baltimore, it feels like I’m in a totally different world.

I use my phone to navigate. It’s a ten-minute walk, and I’m feeling pretty happy with myself. Arsen’s only been home once in the last week, and that was two days ago. He’ll never even realize I left.

The neighborhood turns onto a main road. I have to cross the street, but there are barely any cars. I pick up my pace as my nerves start to bother me.This is really happening.

I haven’t gone exploring in years. I never really thought I’d do it again. Not after that last time and my near brush with the law. I figured I got my thrills and a few good stories too, and there’s no reason to put myself at risk anymore.

Until sitting around Arsen’s mansion made me realize how much I crave the outside world.

The building comes into view up ahead. I check my phone, my palms clammy, and I’m at the right place. There’s a chain-link fence around the perimeter, but it’s easy to scale. Nobody bothers with barbed wire out here. I hit the other side and walk faster across a parking lot that’s gone scrubby with weeds.

Maud was right. The place really was an old elementary school. The front entrance has two big columns in the shapes of pencils on the outside, and a cornerstone says it was built in 1927. It’s a low building with dark, boarded windows. I move around the side of it, stomping through overgrown weeds and grass, until I spot a side door.

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