When Swain and Verow stopped running it was not because they felt safe from Mrs. Gordon’s terrible rage. That would have taken much longer, and they would still be running now, and the rest of the story would never have happened.

Fortunately Swain finally stopped in the middle of a street cramped with leaning houses, and the children had a chance to catch their breath while the sun came up. Things went on.

“I hope this is all worth it. I hope we find my color,” said Verow. Her voice was muffled by her disguise, as yours would be if you tried to speak through scarves (you would not be able to do it), and she could hardly breathe at all after such a great amount of exercise.

“My Grownup will be upset with me when I get back home, after all this trouble.”

“You said that before,” said Swain. “‘Grownup.’ What is that? Do you mean your mother?”

“Mrs. Gordon isn’t my mother,” said Verow. “She told me never to call her that. She’s just my Grownup. I’m not her child.”

“And what are you, if not a child?” asked Swain.

Verow hung her head, and the great, magnified eyes at the end of her binoculars were suddenly heavy and sullen; and you knew that she was upset. “I don’t know.”

“Well, we’ll find your color, anyway,” said Swain, and he opened up a small pouch that hung at his side so that Verow could peer inside.

“Why do you have so many buttons?” Verow asked. “And why are they all shimmering and whispering?”

“I’ve been collecting these buttons my whole life,” said Swain. “Each one is a piece of THE DOORWAY to the world of lost things.”

“How do you know about all this?” Verow asked. “It’s all incredibly strange.”

“When I was just a child, a story was whispered to me by a deep, quiet voice,” said Swain. “I don’t know whom the voice belonged to, but I’ve always remembered the story it told me. It began ‘This is a story about lost things and the place where they end up’. Ever since, I’ve done nothing except search for the scattered pieces of THE DOORWAY, so that I can find the world of lost things.”

He reached into his front pocket and pulled out a small, violet button; the one that had been on Mrs. Gordon’s coat. He held it up to catch the rising sunlight.

“And this is the last piece.” Swain turned to Verow. “It’s time to open THE DOORWAY.”

Topher Daniel can be reached at [email protected]