“It’s going to be fun to go there with you,” Yana said excitedly that afternoon.
The idea of going somewhere secluded with her was a tempting one. Taking the chance to snoop inside the SB secret headquarters was another. I couldn’t help but to think that maybe Nicole had left something important there.
The moment I came home I knew what to do. With a surge of hope and swallowed pride, I began typing a message to my sister. It was rare for me to ask her how she was; even more so to ask something that concerned her in any way. But I still gave it a try. I needed to.
I didn’t expect she would reply in a few minutes. Well, her phone is always with her, after all, I thought.
She was asking me why I was interested to know about the secret headquarters. She knew I wasn’t an SB member so I didn’t have business there, she said.
“It’s not like I wanted to go there for myself!” I thought aloud, and after composing myself, formed a reply.
Someone I know might have left something important there. And it would mean a lot to her brother if we get to find it, I sent.
I didn’t really expect to get a reply again. What’s more is that she even told me where it was.
It’s in the old music room, her message said.
I thanked my sister and immediately told the news to Yana. I thought about messaging Calvin as well but I didn’t want to get his hopes up if I was mistaken. So I decided to let him know once I found something.
“The door is locked,” Yana said, clearly dismayed that she couldn’t open the door of the old Music Room.
Making sure the other members were in their classes, Yana and I sneaked out of our classroom during a study period (lucky us!) to check the place.
The said room was now turned into a storage room at the far end of the second floor, just below the library. It had a pair of sliding doors with slit-like handles at the opposite sides instead of side by side. (Upon looking at it online, I learned they’re called bypass sliding doors.)
Yana tried the left door again but to no avail. She then tried the other but it didn't budge as well. “I can't believe it!” she hissed, trying to keep her voice down.
I looked at both doors and it bugged me that there was no keyhole on each of them. I wondered how it was possible to lock them from the outside that way.
“Wait, let me try,” I told Yana and she stepped aside.
I touched the door (the one behind the other) with my palm, and instead of sliding it to the direction it was supposed to go, I moved it to the opposite. And to my satisfaction, it slid open.
Yana was impressed as to how I found the trick and I told her my observations, more particularly, the odd set of fingerprints at the edge of where the two doors meet which gave me the idea that it was supposed to slide the other way. Everything else was so dusty that I noticed the smudges quite easily.
We were welcomed by a faint moldy scent the moment we stepped inside. It probably had been awhile since one of the members dropped by. I opened the windows just a little so the air could circulate.
Aside from the remnants of its past purpose, boxes of all sizes filled the larger portion of the room leaving only a space enough for four to six people to move freely around. Two worn out sofas were beside the door. On the platform were several square pillows that I think were pulled out from the storage boxes. There was an upside down crate used as a table, and a few more that were used as chairs.
In a corner was a shelf filled with board games, comics, teen magazines, and pocketbooks. I recognized some that looked like my sister’s and upon pulling them out, I confirmed it was hers from the initials at the top. So this is where she donated her old books, I realized.
I looked at the white board and noticed tally marks. They seemed to be keeping scores about a game. Yana, on the other hand, seemed to have discovered something, for she was smiling when I glanced in her direction.
“Rin, look here,” she said, beckoning me to sit on one of the pillows beside her.
She was looking at a logbook filled with entries from the SB members. They were talking about different topics like: how someone's day went, an interesting fact, jokes, crushes, TV shows, family matters, and other personal problems.
Yana was leafing a few more pages when I spotted a familiar handwriting. I held her hand to stop on the page and read it at once:
It feels lonely at home. My little sister is with Grandma again. I don’t like house chores the way she does which makes her Grandma’s favorite. I’m only good at studying; sometimes, I don’t know if it’s a good thing. –Arlene S.
“It’s your sister’s, isn’t it?” Yana looked at me warmly. I nodded at her, feeling the building mist in my eyes. I knew she could tell I was being emotional even if I hadn’t said anything, for she just looked at me with those soft eyes the whole time.
I read the entry again and a strange feeling overcame me. Somehow, it felt like I had found a piece of my sister in this place. After many years, I was glad to have found her again.