“My goodness, and who might this be?” said a man with a plummy British accent. His hair was silver, and he was sitting in an oversized, flowery chair. He wore a suit with a deep blue, almost shiny smoking jacket over it, and a white cravat poofed out under his chin. Next to him sat a corgi wearing a diamond collar.

A woman in a pale peach dress with little lavender flowers on it was leaning against a baby grand piano, her short hair gathered to the side with a dazzling pin. She was playing idly with the long pearl necklace that hung around her neck. “Such strange creatures,” she said, observing Evie and Sebastian. “What on earth are they wearing?”

Evie finally looked to the Kid, who was standing by a small table, on which sat a decorative metal bowl. He was midway through pouring the chocolates into it but was staring at Evie and Sebastian as if frozen.

Evie stared right back.

“Neither of them even answers the question. How rude,” said the woman, sounding rather annoyed.

Evie blinked a few times and turned to the woman in the peach dress.

“I’m sorry. What?”

The woman rolled her eyes. Evie thought for a moment and then remembered what the woman had asked.

“Clothes,” she said in reply, even though technically the woman hadn’t actually been talking to her.

“Maybe they are in costumes for a fancy dress party,” said the man, taking a sip of some kind of amber liquid from a crystal glass.

Why weren’t they talking to her or to Sebastian? Why wasn’t Sebastian saying anything? He was simply standing there, wearing an expression of complete confusion. Yes, all this must seem totally absurd to his very logical brain. It was quite frankly affecting hers as well, and she did think she had a decent appreciation for whimsy. She would have to keep trying here.

“No. Just our clothes,” replied Evie. “Who are you guys?”

The woman laughed lightly, though it didn’t sound sincere. It sounded more like she was in a community theater production of some play set in the past and was trying a bit too hard. “What a strange accent! She must be from the Americas.”

Okay, so these people were either playing make-believe or they were a little strange.

More than a little strange.

“Yes, uh, we are,” conceded Evie. “Can you tell us what’s going on here?”

She saw a flicker of annoyance race across the woman’s face. Then watched as the woman glanced very briefly up at something high above behind Evie. She turned but saw nothing.

“Well,” said the man, shifting slightly to scrutinize Evie. “We are enjoying a quiet afternoon. Or at least we were.”

“Okay, but why are you dressed like that? And why are you talking like this?” asked Evie. The woman was now glancing back over her own shoulder, and Evie strained to see what or who she was looking at.

“I am dressed in my afternoon attire. And I am talking as I talk,” replied the man calmly, but Evie could tell he was getting frustrated with her. His expression reminded her of the one the cook had worn, and the maid before that. The “Stop” expression.

What she was supposed to stop doing, she had no idea. She was asking what she considered extremely reasonable questions.

There was suddenly a firm white-gloved hand on her shoulder. It startled her, and she turned to see a very dignified white-haired man wearing a tuxedo.

“That’s enough. Come with me,” he said. His British accent sounded less forced. “You too, young fellow,” he said to Sebastian.

“But we…,” started Evie, turning back to look at the Kid. He was still just staring at her. Why was he just staring at her?

“With me. Now.” He then spoke to the man and woman. “I’m so sorry, m’lord, m’lady. Young street urchins to whom Cook was giving a treat. They slipped away.”

“Yes, well, make sure to check their pockets before you send them away,” said the woman, looking visibly relieved and extra snooty.

“Of course, ma’am,” he said with a slight bow of the head. “Come on, children.”

“Come on, Evie,” said Sebastian with hushed urgency.

She knew he was looking out for her, but this wasn’t the time to be easygoing. They needed the Kid!

“Jason! I mean, Charles!” called out Evie, trying to get the Kid to flinch at the very least. To prove he hadn’t suddenly morphed into a wax statue. Of course it would have been nice if he’d run over to help her in this moment, but a blink would have worked too.

As it was, he did at the very least furrow his brow as Evie and Sebastian were guided away from the man and woman and toward the door leading to the stairs. Once through the door, Evie made to go back into the room, but the man grabbed her. She saw Sebastian with a bewildered expression, lower down on the stairs in front of them. She looked back at the man. Definitely a butler. Or at least dressed as one. It was strange. There was something about him that made her think that maybe he wasn’t being mean to them. That maybe she should ask him for help. “Can you tell me what is going on?”

“No talking. Come with me,” he ordered instead.

Those were two things Evie really didn’t feel like doing, but the way he kept throwing her quick looks gave her hope that maybe wherever he was taking them would give her some answers. So she nodded and followed.

“He’s different, isn’t he?” whispered Sebastian as she came beside him.

“I think so,” she replied, happy that he’d noticed it too. The man led the kids along the hall to a door. He opened it. It was a broom closet.

“Wait, what?” said Evie, backing away quickly. She was not about to be locked in a broom closet. That so was not something that she was going to let happen to them.

“Trust me,” said the man, still sounding very formal but with a pleading expression in his eyes.

Trust him? That was asking a lot. She didn’t know what was going on. Everyone was acting bizarre, and all her life she’d been warned not to trust strangers. Not to go into a stranger’s car. Not to go into a stranger’s broom closet…

Then again, she’d already gotten into several strangers’ cars, and some people had been most helpful to her in the past.

Then again, there were scary men after Sebastian and the Filipendulous Five.

Then again…

She felt a shove and fell off balance, stumbling forward into the closet.

“Hey!” said Sebastian. And then she saw him stumble forward too beside her. She turned around, but the man had entered the closet as well and was closing the door behind him. He pulled a cord above their heads, filling the space with light. Fine. She’d just have to scream.

“Please don’t scream,” he said with a look of utter distress on his face. “I need your help. We all need your help.”