Sophie had to admit that she had really taken to the whole makeup-and-costumes thing.
Could she be a Broadway costume designer one day? Or the editor of Vogue?
After Sophie’s meeting with the tech crew for The Music Man, she’d been shocked at their disregard for detail. They were planning on dressing everyone in the same costumes from Oliver! the year before, which took place in an entirely different time period and country! Sophie told them she’d take over. They could easily piece together costumes from thrift stores in town on a reasonable budget; they just needed to think it through a bit more. Was Sophie the only kid in school who knew how to work on a dang budget? Probably.
After Thanksgiving break, she began working on costumes during rehearsals.
She headed to the library early in December to do some research.
Once she signed in at the library’s front desk, she went to the computer section and got to work googling.
In 1912 Iowa, hats looked like UFOs.
Nessa would think that was funny. Sophie would show her pictures later.
Over Thanksgiving break, she’d missed the Shieldmaidens. They wrote on their group chat, sure, but it wasn’t the same as being together. She’d never tell them that, but it was true.
She noted with disgust that the girls in 1912 wore bows the size of deep-sea bass. How could they even run and play in those outfits? Early twentieth-century fashion was a disgrace.
The buttons were nice, though. Lots of cute little buttons up and down the front. And she liked the high-waisted skirts. Maybe she’d wear a high-waisted skirt sometime. Clothes and makeup could just be fun. They could be a way of playing around with who you wanted to be or who you already were.
Sophie printed out some photos of looks for the cast, and as she finished up, she dragged the pictures to the trash bin folder on the computer. She went to empty it, but the trash folder was pretty full, with documents dating back all the way to the first week of school, like “Diary Entry of an Ellis Island Immigrant” and “Bio Project—Bill Gates.” She saw one doc from Liv Henry, and a part of her wanted to read it and see if Liv was as good at writing as she was. Sophie always felt like she was the best at essays, even if Liv beat her at science and math. But she didn’t look. It didn’t matter, she told herself. She highlighted her files to delete them, when a Word doc caught her eye. It was dated October 8, 7:23 A.M., and titled “prettiest.” Huh?
A part of her knew what she was seeing. A part of her didn’t want to know.
Sophie glanced around the library and saw no one but a couple of sixth graders in the fiction section, and the school librarian, Ms. Lyle, going through some papers at her desk.
She clicked on the document and opened it up.
And there it was. Right in front of her. The original list, in tiny type, in rows side by side, perfectly fit together so a phone could take a shot that captured all the names.
Ms. Lyle headed toward the computer section. Sophie pulled out her phone and took a pic of the date and time on the file, as well as a copy of the file’s contents, and then emptied the entire trash folder. Anyone could access this computer, and she needed to ensure that she was the one with the evidence.
“Need any help back here?” Ms. Lyle asked. Ms. Lyle looked like she’d been working in a library since libraries were invented.
“Nope, I’m good!” Sophie answered in a way-too-peppy voice.
“Oh, lovely.” Ms. Lyle continued toward another section of the library, out of sight.
Could Sophie sneak a look at the sign-in book up front before Ms. Lyle returned? She moved pretty slowly, so maybe there was time …
If she could get a photo of Brody Dixon’s name in the library sign-in at the same time as the Word doc had been written, then he’d be done for. Real evidence! Just the image of the time stamp on the doc and a picture of his name at that exact time and the case for guilt would be made.
Sophie flipped through the pages of the sign-in sheet. October 8 … Early morning, before the first period. Who had signed in …
And there she saw them—the names of who had come to the library that day and written the list.
No, it couldn’t be.
Brody had done it. They knew this.
Had he written another name? Or were these accomplices?
It didn’t make sense.
It had to be Brody. It just had to.
Didn’t it?