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she asked. “It’s almost ten.”
    Felix shrugged.
    After their mother had moved into her office on Thames Street that day, the other lawyers had insisted she go out to dinner with them at Café Zelda’s.
You don’t mind, do you?
she’d asked them when she’d called. In the background they could hear the sounds of people laughing.
No, no,
they’d insisted, even though they’d wanted her home with them.
    â€œThis house,” Felix said as Maisie settled into the other twin bed.
    â€œNoisy,” Maisie said. She missed the noise on Bethune Street, the traffic, the late night sounds of people leaving nearby restaurants, and even the early morning garbage and delivery trucks. But the noises here were different, all creaky and shuddering.
    â€œScary,” Felix said.
    Maisie sighed. “Prison.”
    â€œPrison,” Felix agreed.
    Maisie brightened. “Hey,” she said. “Let’s break out.”
    â€œHuh?”
    â€œOr should I say, break
in
?” Maisie said, laughing.
    â€œBreak
in
?” Felix said, afraid he understood exactly what she meant.
    â€œWhy not?” Maisie said, excited.
    â€œBecause we’re not allowed, that’s why,” Felix said, hating what a goody-two-shoes he sounded like.
    But it was true—his sister liked to break rules, and he liked to follow them. When he listened to her and they got caught, his good intentions did him no good. Like the time their parents had forbidden them from taking home the classroom guinea pig, Jelly Bean, over Christmas break in second grade, and Maisie had convinced him they could hide Jelly Bean in their room and no one would notice. Their mother had noticed all right and had screamed, terrified:
I said no
rodents in this house
! And I meant no
rodents
!
    â€œOur relatives built this monstrosity, right? It’s technically ours, isn’t it?”
    â€œMom said no,” Felix said, knowing it was too late. Maisie was already standing, and her eyes were twinkling. That picture of Great-Aunt Maisie flashed through Felix’s mind. His sister would not be happy if he pointed out their resemblance, but he saw it as clear as anything.
    â€œWe know the doors are all locked,” she said, pacing, her face scrunched up with concentration. “But there must be another way in.”
    Maisie stopped pacing, a wicked look of glee in her eyes and a satisfied grin on her face. “Or I could lower you down the dumbwaiter, and you could unlock one of the doors for me and let me in.”
    â€œNo way,” Felix said. “You know I’m afraid of heights. Why don’t I lower
you
down the dumb dumbwaiter?”
    â€œBecause you’re smaller than me. You’ll fit better.” Maisie loved that she was seven minutes older and almost three inches taller than Felix.
    â€œThat thing hasn’t been used in a million years. What if it doesn’t work and I get trapped in there? Or worse?”
    â€œThe Gilded Age,” Maisie said, imitating the Woman in Pink’s trill, “was from 1865 to 1901. So it’s only, like, a hundred years old.”
    â€œGreat,” Felix said, following his sister to the kitchen despite his better judgment.
    Maisie opened the narrow door and peered inside.
    â€œLooks safe,” she said.
    Felix tried to decide what he was more frightened of: getting into the thing, traveling down three flights in it, or running through the big, empty mansion at night to let his sister in.
    â€œMaisie?” he said, taking one tentative step inside. “Do you think kids did this a hundred years ago?”
    â€œDefinitely,” she said. “I bet Great-Aunt Maisie did it!”
    She gave him a shove, and he stumbled all the way in. The air was stale, reminding Felix of the smell in their apartment in New York after his father smoked one of his forbidden cigars. That comforted him a little, but he still didn’t move his foot