The admin office was on the second floor of the main building, above the library, and the work-study crew cleaned it every Tuesday night from eight to ten. Dana's friend was a sophomore named Becca who played oboe and hated authority, and she agreed to leave the door unlocked for exactly one minute at nine-fifteen.
Dana and I got there at nine-ten and waited in the stairwell.
"You're sure about this?" Dana whispered.
"No."
"Great."
At nine-fifteen, the door clicked open. Becca stuck her head out, saw us, and nodded. Then she disappeared back into the office, and we slipped in behind her.
The office was dark except for one lamp on the far desk. The sign-out log was a heavy black binder on the shelf behind the reception desk, labeled KEY REGISTER in gold letters. I pulled it down and f
