I look at the label again, considering.

CAT.

Nearby, Grim stretches and yawns.

“No,” I say, pulling the tape from the reels. “But cats are fond of ribbons, aren’t they?”

Five minutes later, the stage is set, the damage is done. Adele comes in and says she can hear my parents on the stairs. I grab her by the arm and race out into the hall, determined to meet them on the way.

“Oh, there you are,” I say as we run into them on the stairs. “We were just coming to find you.”

“Everything okay?” asks Mom.

“Yeah,” I say, a little too fast. “We were just getting hungry and wanted to know if we could order food.”

“Sure,” says Mom as we turn around and start back up.

I hold my breath as we climb the stairs.

The last part of my plan rests on Jacob, or rather, on his growing powers.

“You’re sure you’re strong enough to do it?” I asked, balancing the case on the edge of the table.

“I think so,” he said. He reached out, eyes narrowed in concentration, and pressed one finger to the corner of the case. It tipped, ever so slightly, before regaining its balance.

Now, as we reach the hall, I sneeze once loudly, the agreed-upon signal, and a second later—

CRASH.

The sound of a metal film case toppling.

Mom bursts into the room, Dad right behind her. Adele and I linger in the hallway, but judging by Mom’s gasp of horror and Dad’s cursing, it worked.

The scene stretches before us, a picture of destruction.

Grim, jolted upright by the sound of the case, stares down at the mess on the floor in front of him. Only a few of the digital cards fell out of the case. The rest stayed lodged in their foam slots. The film reels weren’t so lucky. They roll away, tip over, most of them unharmed, but one lies ruined in the center of the scene, a mess of knotted film.

“Bad cat!” shouts Mom, rushing forward.

Grim leaps up onto the back of the sofa and glowers at me with his green eyes as if to say, Low blow, human. I silently vow to buy him a whole tin of catnip when this is over.

“Mon dieu!” says Adele. I have to hand it to her, her face is a picture of surprise, whereas I just feel like throwing up.

Jacob perches on the back of the couch, arms crossed, clearly torn between feeling annoyed at me and smug about his accomplishment. He settles for watching as the four of us search on our hands and knees, recovering all the spilled reels and the fallen data cards, fitting them back into the briefcase.

Dad tries to feed the ruined film back into the plastic shell, but it quickly becomes obvious it’s not going to work.

“Good thing there’s a digital backup,” he grumbles, but Mom only shakes her head.

“It’s missing.”

“What?” demands Dad, looking inside the case to confirm what I already know.

They won’t find the Catacombs data chip there. Or anywhere.

Dad’s face is red with anger, Mom’s pale and blotchy with distress, and there’s a storm inside my stomach as I remind myself that people’s lives are in danger. That I have to do the right thing, even if the right thing in this instance has a dose of wrong mixed in.

Still, it doesn’t feel good.

And I must look as bad as I feel, because Jacob doesn’t give me a hard time. Instead, he appears at my side and rests his shoulder against the air right next to mine.

“Spider-Man’s Law,” he says as tears threaten to spill down my cheeks.

I nod, silently promising that if this doesn’t work, I will find a way to make it up to them.

All of them.

Including the cat.

“Hey,” I say, as if the idea has just occurred to me. “We don’t leave until tomorrow afternoon, right? So why don’t we just go back and film it again in the morning?”

“It’s not that simple, Cassidy,” says Dad, pinching the bridge of his nose.

My heart trips over its beat. “Why not?”

Dad sighs. “The Catacombs are a public site. Admission is tightly controlled. We can’t simply come and go as we please. Pauline arranged our visit weeks in advance.”

I look to Mom, but she’s already a step ahead, her cell phone pressed to her ear. I can only assume she’s talking to Pauline.

“I know,” Mom is saying over and over, leaving us with only patches of silence to wonder what Pauline is saying. “Is there any way? All right.”

She lets the cell slip from her ear with a shuddering sigh.

“Well?” asks Dad.

“She’s going to see what she can do.”

So we do the only thing we can.

We wait.

Five agonizing minutes later, the cell rings, and I hold my breath as Mom answers. I watch her face, the tension finally replaced by a flood of relief. I feel it like fresh air in my lungs as Mom says, “Thank you. Thank you so much.” She hangs up, explains that Pauline, blessed, wonderful Pauline, has arranged for us to go into the Catacombs after hours.

Tonight.

“That’s great!” I say.

“Yeah, great,” echoes Jacob. “Because the only thing scarier than being a hundred feet underground during the day is being there at night.”

And even though Adele can’t hear what he said, she looks similarly unsettled by the idea of a trip to the tombs in the dark.

My parents get dressed again in their on-screen wear, smooth their hair, and try to recover a semblance of calm as they wait for Pauline to arrive. But when Dad sees me pulling on my shoes, he shakes his head.

“No, Cass. You and Adele stay here.”

My stomach drops. “If you’re going back, I want to come.”

“There’s no reason,” says Mom. “It scared you enough the first time, and—”

“I won’t get in the way,” I promise. “Please.”

“It’s not about you getting in the way, honey,” says Mom.

“But you couldn’t wait to get out of there last time,” cuts in Dad. “Why the change of heart?”

Well, I think, there’s this poltergeist I need to lure out so I can remind him who he is and how he died, then send him on before anyone else gets hurt.

But I can’t exactly say that, so I take a different tactic.

“The Catacombs are the kind of place most people only see once,” I say. “I don’t want to lose the chance to see them again. Even if they’re kind of scary. Besides, you gave me a job, to take photos. I want to do it.”

I can see them bending, but I throw in one last angle. “Plus, I want to show Adele.”

Adele looks at me with something less than enthusiasm, but I silently will her not to say anything.

Mom sighs, but Dad only shakes his head and checks his watch. “If you’re coming, you should put on a jacket. It’s colder at night.”

I resist the urge to throw my arms around his waist. There’s happy, and then there’s suspiciously excited, and I can’t afford for them to wonder.

Luckily, they have plenty on their minds.

Pauline meets us in the lobby.

She’s opted for a hired car. Anton and Annette are already seated inside. Dad hands off the film to them with a round of profuse apology, but Anton waves him off and takes the case.