Notice - 3. Act 3: Found

Elijah had thought Banjo fit the means, being a Year Seven with access to the rooms. But motive? Now he knew what he'd been missing. They were all lonely in their own way, but like Banjo just pointed out, he had Owen, whether he liked it or not. Likewise, Elijah had Reggie, for better or worse. Bernard had Lane. Felix had Sebastian and the Year Nines. Piers had his devices and preferred solitude.

There was another person, though. He'd joined every search, and he was so easy to overlook that Elijah hadn't even known his surname until today. Elijah hadn't even thought about him as a viable suspect, because he'd stolen from himself. Why? Diverting suspicion was one answer, but it was the easy answer. No, it was because being a victim guaranteed people would flock to help him. Talk to him. Befriend him.

And Elijah had fallen for it completely. Hook, line and sinker.

Before Banjo could so much as ask him to explain, Elijah took the stairs back up two at a time. Milo was sitting at the end of the couch, turning the resin keychain between his fingers.

"Hey, Milo?" Elijah asked him quickly. Milo turned his head. "Can I talk to you?"

"About what?"

"Privately."

Milo went pale. Reggie noticed, but for once he kept his mouth shut. Once Elijah closed his bedroom door behind them, he turned around and Milo folded his arms over his stomach.

"What?"

Elijah hesitated. In books, detectives gathered everyone together and explained exactly how clever they'd been. Looking at Milo now, that suddenly seemed horrible.

"I understand now," Elijah said softly. "I'm sorry we didn't see how hard a time you were having. We should've reached out." Milo froze. "The stuff you took. You made it disappear so everyone would search together, then put it somewhere we'd find it again."

Milo stared at him. "You can't prove that."

"Yes, I can." Elijah folded his arms. "But I don't want to have to. You know, stealing your own keychain was clever. We were too busy trying to find it after the other things that we forgot you were the only one who could say exactly when it disappeared - or whether it was really missing from your room before dinner."

Milo crumpled. "I just don't want to be invisible anymore!" Elijah said nothing, and Milo took in a shaky breath. "You guys were supposed to think it was Felix. Not Banjo! Then Christian said everything had to be back before lights out and I'd be in so much trouble."

"I see. You were suddenly on a deadline and accidentally gave Felix an alibi."

Milo nodded miserably. "Everyone else's roommate turned into their best friend. I got stuck with Felix, and he's always with his brother. I didn't think it would be a problem if everyone thought it was him." His huge brown eyes dropped. "He's mean."

Elijah had to admit that rooming with Felix sounded dreadful. "I get it. You got unlucky. But this still isn't okay. The others need to know."

"Please don't. I gave everything back. I was never going to keep anything! I'll tell Christian. Just don't tell everyone. They'll hate me and I'll be invisible again."

Elijah sighed. "I know you didn't mean to hurt anyone. But Felix accused Banjo and you stayed quiet. That's too far, Milo. He's really upset."

"I didn't mean--"

"But you did! Now you need to fix it. If you don't clear Banjo's name, I will."

Milo stared at the carpet. "Can we still be friends?"

Elijah thought for a moment, and nodded. "Yeah. If you don't touch our stuff again and you do the right thing by Banjo, I'll be your friend. I promise."

Milo nodded. "I'll tell everybody tonight." Then he added: "I put your puzzle box back too."

Elijah squinted. "My what?"

"The puzzle box. Under your bed."

"I don't have a puzzle box."

Milo looked confused. "It's not yours?"

Elijah shook his head. "Show me - and this is the last time you're ever going through my room."

Milo nodded sheepishly, then dropped onto his stomach and reached beneath Elijah's bedframe. His hand disappeared upward. Elijah stared. Hidden beneath the frame was a narrow recess cut into the timber.

"How the heck did you find that?"

Milo avoided his eyes. "Snooping."

He pulled at a shallow panel. It opened. Inside sat a small wooden box. The wood was dark with age, the twelve-sided box carved with strange seams. No hinge. No visible lock. Elijah lifted it carefully. It was heavier than he expected.

"I thought it was yours," Milo said.

"I've never seen this in my life."

"You didn't notice it was gone, so I thought maybe you just forgot about it. Christian said to put everything back, so I did."

Elijah turned it over. No name. No label. No hint who had hidden it there or how long it had rested there.

"Reggie definitely doesn't own this."

"How do you know?"

"If Reggie owned a secret puzzle box, everyone would know."

Milo grinned. Elijah placed it on the desk and examined the carvings. This was so cool. So mysterious!

Milo shifted beside him. "I'm gonna go tell the others."

"Good idea."

"Will you come with me?"

Elijah stared longingly at the box. Did he have to? Whatever this was, it was suddenly the only thing Elijah had ever wanted in his entire life. But what kind of hypocrite would he be if he immediately abandoned Milo after promising to be his friend?

"Sure."

Back in the common room, Reggie noticed them first. "What's up?"

Milo opened his mouth. Nothing came out. Banjo was back beside Owen, though neither looked comfortable. Lane and Bernard pretended to watch The Simpsons. Piers had temporarily emerged from his room, and pulled out one of his earbuds.

Milo stared at his shoes, and finally found his voice. "Banjo didn't do anything. It was me."

Bernard paused the show, and Piers turned to look.

"What was?" Owen asked.

"I took your stuff."

Silence. Owen looked at his bracelet. Lane turned the wooden tractor over in his hands. Reggie blinked.

"You nicked Silverman's pencil?"

"Yeah. I didn't want to keep anything. I just liked it when everyone looked together."

"That's supposed to make it better?" Bernard asked sourly.

"No. I'm sorry." Milo finally looked at Banjo. "And I'm sorry I didn't say anything when Felix blamed you."

Banjo's jaw tightened. "You knew."

"Yeah."

"And you didn't say anything."

"I got scared."

Banjo looked away. "Yeah. I know the feeling."

"I'm really sorry."

Banjo didn't forgive him immediately, but he didn't drag it out either. "Cheers."

Lane looked at Milo. "Why though?"

Milo shrugged helplessly. "You all made friends so fast. You looked happy. I thought I was the only one having trouble being here."

Something loosened in Elijah's chest. The feeling seemed mutual among the Year Sevens.

Lane looked down at his tractor. "I'm having a pretty bad time sometimes." Bernard glanced at him, and the larger boy shrugged. "What? I miss home."

"You call your mum every night."

"Yeah. Because I miss her. Duh."

Bernard looked embarrassed. "I call mine most nights too."

Reggie snorted. "My family is in another country. How do you think I feel?"

"I'm not used to being here yet," Piers admitted, getting most of the boys to turn and look at him. He didn't look invested in the conversation, but it was nice to hear him talk. "I keep forgetting where I am when I wake up in the morning."

"True. I get that." Milo was able to smile.

Owen fiddled with his bracelet. "I miss my mum. And my sisters."

Banjo looked at him. "You said your mum sent you here because she wanted fewer children."

"That was a joke!"

"You have six siblings. It sounded believable."

Owen grinned. Then he looked at Banjo. "I'm sorry, by the way."

"For what?"

"You know."

"No. Say it."

Owen grimaced. "I don't want to. You're the guy who will remember it forever."

"Don't be a baby," Banjo probed him.

Owen closed his eyes. "For thinking Felix might've been right."

"For how long?"

"Like five seconds."

"Longest five seconds of my life."

Banjo let him suffer another moment, then nudged his shoulder against Owen's. Bernard unmuted the television. Milo sat with him and Lane. Elijah returned to his beanbag while Owen, Reggie and Banjo played cards nearby. The tension hadn't disappeared. Piers shut himself in his room. Owen was still upset. Lane didn't appreciate someone going through his belongings. Banjo had every right to stay angry. But nobody told Milo to leave. Nobody said they hated him. And for the first time, he didn't look invisible.

The next day, dinner was loud as usual. Elijah sat with Reggie, Banjo and Owen. Milo joined Lane and Bernard nearby. Piers sat with them too, occasionally chiming in but generally happier in silence. Felix, predictably, planted himself beside Sebastian at the Year Nine table. He lasted six minutes before turning around.

"So, Milo. Planning to steal anyone's dessert?"

Milo paused with his fork halfway to his mouth.

Bernard groaned. "Can you not?"

"What? I'm checking."

"He's already apologised," Lane said.

Felix shrugged. "Still weird, isn't it? Getting so upset about boarding school you start nicking stuff."

Elijah frowned. "You weren't even there when he apologised, and nothing of yours got stolen. Why do you care?"

"That's not the point."

"So what is the point?"

Felix puffed himself up. "Some people just handle being away from home better than others."

Beside him, Sebastian stopped chewing. "Calm down, Felix. You know what they say about glass houses, right?"

Felix froze. "Huh?"

Sebastian's mouth twitched. The other Year Nines noticed and quickly shushed. "You sure you want to keep throwing stones?"

Felix's face reddened. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Really? Because I remember someone crying nearly the whole drive here."

Felix went crimson and looked around. Most of the dining hall was listening now. Including every Year Seven.

"I did not cry!" Felix shouted, ensuring anyone who hadn't been listening certainly was now.

"You did. All the way from Moe. And I don't think it was because of the traffic," Sebastian teased him.

While the Year Sevens all kept their mouths shut, the Year Nines erupted in mockery.

"No way!"

"Little Harcourt?"

"Does he miss his mummy?"

“Alright, lay off. Nothing wrong with missing home, right, Felix?" Sebastian put his arm around his mortified brother.

Christian eventually told the Year Nines to knock it off, but Felix didn't say another word for the rest of the meal. Good. He'd reaped what he'd sown. Elijah enjoyed that thought for a moment. Then he saw Felix sitting there, humiliated in front of the people he was trying so hard to impress. It became less satisfying. Felix could be a special kind of insufferable, but he was still a person putting on a brave face, like everybody else.

After dinner, Christian caught Elijah near the stairs.

"Hey. Got a minute?"

Elijah glanced at Reggie. "I'll catch up."

"I'll see you soon!" Reggie disappeared upstairs.

Christian waited until they were alone. "Milo told me what happened. He said you figured it out."

Elijah shrugged modestly. "I had help."

"He also said you didn't embarrass him in front of everybody. That was decent."

"He had to tell them himself."

"Yeah. Still." Christian pushed his glasses up his nose. "You really like mystery stuff, don't you?"

Elijah nodded happily. "Yeah."

"I thought so. Oakfield offers mentorships with people from different careers if you're interested. There's this big-deal detective who likes recruiting smart kids into forensics - Detective Senior Sergeant Bourke." Elijah straightened. Christian continued. "He runs something after school every couple of weeks. A few day students do it, mostly older kids interested in policing or law. You could be our representative from boarding."

"Like, a real detective?"

Christian laughed. "Yes, Elijah. A real detective."

"You think he'd let me?"

"You're young, but I reckon he'd be interested in the Year Seven who solved a case three weeks into term."

Elijah's smile became so wide he covered his mouth. "I think I'd love that."

"I thought you might. I'll put your name forward tomorrow."

Elijah was still grinning when Christian let him go. Detective Senior Sergeant Bourke. A real detective. He repeated the name as he headed upstairs. For now, however, there was still a puzzle box on his desk.

Elijah had almost reached his room when Felix stepped into the corridor.

"Don't say it."

Elijah stopped reluctantly. "Hm?"

"I know what you're thinking."

"I wasn't thinking about you."

Felix huffed. "I bet you think you're sooo clever."

"I don't know what you mean."

"You got lucky. That's all. I would've solved it first if I actually tried."

"Probably." Elijah reached for his door. "I mean, it turned out to be the guy you room with, but I don't think it matters." Felix glared, and Elijah added, "You're the only person playing this game and somehow you still came in second place."

Elijah closed the door behind him.

From the corridor came a deeply offended: "Oh, shut up, Silverman."

Elijah smiled. Now there were no more interruptions. He picked up the puzzle box. It fitted comfortably between both hands but was much heavier than its size suggested. The wood was almost black with age, its corners worn smooth from years of handling. Up close, it smelled faintly dusty and woody, like the oldest shelves in Oakfield's library. There was no hinge. No keyhole. Carvings covered every surface - thin looping lines, geometric shapes, leaves, stars and symbols Elijah didn't recognise.

At first, they looked decorative. The longer he stared, the less random they seemed. Some lines continued perfectly around corners. Others stopped at strange seams in the wood. Elijah traced one with his thumbnail. Nothing. He shook the box beside his ear. Something shifted. A soft click came from inside. His eyes widened.

"Oh, come on."

He sat cross-legged on his bed. One corner seemed fractionally higher than the others. He pushed it. Pulled it. Tried sliding it sideways. Nothing. Instead of becoming frustrated, Elijah grinned. This was fantastic. Someone had designed the box to open. That meant there was a method somewhere - a sequence he had to solve. Maybe the carvings were instructions. Somebody, once, had known the answer. He intended to be the next.

"Alright," Elijah murmured. The box offered no assistance. "You think I'm someone who gives up easily? Think again, Box."

His phone rang. Elijah groaned. Why now? He considered ignoring it until he saw Mum's name.

"Hi, Mum."

"How are you, sweets?"

"Good."

"...You sound distracted."

"I found something."

"More interesting than your mother?"

Elijah smiled. "Yes, but you have seniority."

She laughed. "Good, because I have nothing interesting keeping me occupied here. Your father isn't as good at conversation as you." Elijah's eyebrows twitched. How would he know? He'd barely spoken to Dad since coming to Oakfield. "How is school?" Mum asked. "Have you made any friends yet?"

Elijah paused. Then he smiled, covering his mouth even though nobody could see him. "Yeah. A bunch."

"A bunch?"

"They're not as bad as I thought."

Mum cheered. "There you go! That wasn't so hard." Elijah rolled his eyes. "Anyone who might want to visit the farm?"

"We're a bit far away from everybody for a visit. Most of them live east side. Reggie will go back to Vietnam on the holidays." Elijah rotated the box in his hand. "But stranger things have happened. How are you? How is Dad?"

He tried to pay attention while his fingers explored the carvings again.

"Your father is your father," Mum said.

Elijah smiled faintly. That could mean almost anything. "What's he doing?"

"Working. Complaining about working. Pretending he isn't checking the weather every twenty minutes. We had almost eighty mil of rain in an hour two nights ago. Do you think I've been able to forget that?"

Elijah chuckled. "So, normal."

"Very normal." There was a pause. "He asks about you."

Elijah's fingers stopped against the puzzle box. "He could ask me."

"I know. I just don't think he knows how."

That somehow made it worse. Elijah traced one of the carved lines with his thumb.

"What does he ask?"

"Whether you're eating enough. Whether you're sleeping. Whether your teachers are any good. Whether you're making friends. Whether the school remembers your dietary restrictions."

Elijah snorted. "Oh."

"He asks."

Elijah wasn't sure what to do with that.

"Tell him I'm fine."

"Of course I will. He'll be glad to hear how well you're doing."

Another voice interrupted as the door flew open. "Silverman!"

Of course. It wasn't a call home without his roommate getting involved.

"Coowong!" Mum called through the speaker.

"Cường," Elijah corrected her for the hundredth time.

"Hi, Mum!" Reggie shouted.

Elijah sighed and handed him the phone. "Here."

Reggie grinned at Elijah as he chatted away with Mum. "That's okay! I can't say your name either. Why do you think I call you Mum?"

Beyond the bedroom door, Oakfield carried on around him. Someone ran down the corridor. A door slammed. Owen shouted something that made Banjo laugh. From somewhere upstairs, older boys argued about what show to watch. Three weeks earlier, Elijah would have found every bit of it distracting. Now the room felt strangely comfortable with the noise around it.

A week ago, Reggie invading Elijah's calls from home had been incredibly annoying. It was still annoying, but Elijah understood something he hadn't before. Reggie's family was thousands of kilometres away. Maybe barging into Elijah's conversations with Mum was one small way of feeling less alone. How could Elijah really stand in the way of that? At least Reggie wasn't stealing things - just losing them.

As Mum and Reggie chatted with an ease Elijah wished he had with his own parents, his attention drifted back to the puzzle box.

There were so many more secrets for him to uncover.

TO BE CONTINUED