Esme and Lillian were ushered into a small room off the waiting area, furnished with only a battered metal table and half a dozen chairs. A lamp hung from the ceiling, casting a ring of light over the dented table top.
‘This place gives me the creeps,’ said Lillian. ‘Like they’re going to lock us up if we stay too long. What did Celia say?’
Esme’s jaw tightened. ‘She questioned me like I was a prisoner. And then she used something enchanted, a brooch, to try and squeeze information out of me.’
Lillian snorted. ‘That’s just like her. Mum says Celia’s only good at her job because she can find out everything about everyone. And use it against them, if it suits her.’ She noticed the folder in Esme’s hands. ‘What’s that?’
The manila folder, yellowed with age, bore the name ‘Ariane Silver’,
