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isn’t readily available. But who has time for that? Not me—I had interviews to conduct.
    â€œSo, how long have you been in Brooklyn?” I asked.
    â€œJust a few weeks,” said Felicity.
    â€œSonya told me you’re from Indiana?”
    Felicity nodded.
    â€œIndiana’s pretty far from here, huh?” I said.
    Felicity rolled her eyes. “Tell me about it. I’m from the tiniest town in the middle of nowhere. It’s the exact opposite of New York. This is the first real city I’ve ever been to, unless you count Chicago. I was there once on a school trip.” She fiddled with the salt and pepper shakers as she spoke, staring at them rather than meeting my eye.
    I couldn’t help but notice that as Felicity talked, she kind of rambled on. I wondered whether that was always the case or she was nervous about speaking with me in particular. And if so, why? Did she have a legitimate reason to be worried?
    Just then Joshua came over with two mugs of hot chocolate. “Here you go,” he said. “These are on the house.”
    â€œThanks,” I said. “But what are they for?”
    Joshua shrugged. “I don’t know. You looked thirsty.”
    I took a sip. “Mmm. That’s delicious!”
    â€œJoshua makes the best hot chocolate,” Felicity said, smiling up at him.
    â€œOld family recipe,” Joshua said with a wink.
    Felicity turned back to me. “Did you have any more questions, or can I get back to work now?”
    â€œI’m actually just getting started,” I said, checking my notes again. “Um, what brought you to New York, exactly?”
    â€œYou’re writing all of this down?” she asked, glancing at my notebook.
    â€œI remember things better when I write them down. And sometimes it helps me make connections later.”
    Felicity swirled her spoon around in her mug, and some cocoa splashed over the edge. “Oh no!” she cried, alarmed. And when she reached for the napkins to clean up the hot chocolate, she knocked over the entire mug with the back of her hand. Hot chocolate spilled all over the table, and the mug began to roll.
    Felicity reached for it, but rather than standing it upright she pushed it off the edge and it shattered on the floor.
    â€œYikes!” she yelled.
    I cringed.
    Joshua ran over with the mop to clean up the mess.
    I had to wonder, was Felicity nervous, or simply klutzy? Or was she pretending to be klutzy because she was bent on sabotage? Or was I jumping to conclusions too fast? Why would she want to ruin her aunt’s new shop—her aunt who was responsible for Felicity having a place to stay in New York City?
    I drew a big question mark in my notebook. I would’ve written down more specific questions, except Felicity was squinting down at the page as if she were trying to read my notes upside down. I wondered why she was so interested. Her behavior made me even more suspicious.
    â€œWhat are you,” she asked, “some sort of junior police officer?”
    â€œUm, I’m more of an amateur detective,” I said, watching her carefully. She didn’t seem to be making fun of me, but the question seemed odd.
    â€œYou mean like Nancy Drew?” she asked. “I used to read those books all the time.”
    â€œKind of,” I said. “So, how are you related to Sonya, exactly?”
    â€œWe’re first cousins. Our moms are sisters.”
    â€œHow old are you?”
    â€œEighteen,” she said. “I was supposed to start college this year, but I’m taking a gap year instead.”
    â€œSo you work at the Gap, too?” I asked.
    â€œNo.” Felicity laughed. “A gap year means a year off. I’m supposed to be finding myself, figuring out who I am and what I want to do with my life. That way, college won’t be a waste of time. My parents don’t think I have enough direction, so they sent me here to