The Ruby Locket by Anita Higman, Hillary McMullen

Wyatt growled through his teeth. “Nope, not this time. We need to go. If I remember correctly, there’s a spot up ahead where we might be able to hide before she comes by.” He grabbed my arm and we continued down the corridor at a brisk walk, my ankle smarting.
                  “She?”
                  “Miss Easton. Who else jingles when she walks?”
                  Of course, the keys. “Miss Easton? Why would she be down here?”
                  Wyatt shushed me and said in a whisper, “No more talking. It’ll echo.”
                  Now I could hear footsteps, a steady clack of heels on stone, coming closer. Wyatt clicked off his flashlight and then reached over and turned off mine.
                  Darkness.
                  Wyatt led me forward, my eyes straining to adjust, my free arm groping the chilly emptiness around me. Gradually, a faint glow began to appear, like a night sky graying to dawn. It didn’t seem to be coming from directly ahead though.
                  The footsteps kept approaching.
                  In a hiss, I said, “Shouldn’t we turn around—”
                  Wyatt clamped a hand over my mouth. Suddenly the corridor split, going in two directions. To the right, the growing light bobbed with the rhythm of the footsteps. He pulled me to the left and we slipped into a shallow alcove in the wall. I shuddered as I felt the softness of countless spider webs enclose my shoulders and hair.
                  The light rounded a corner and the strong beam shone unhindered down the corridor, almost illuminating the toes of our shoes. Miss Easton paused at the branch in the corridor, as if she were debating which direction to go. Had she heard us?
                  A rat skittered out of the enclave we were huddled in, running over my shoe. A scream burned its way up my throat, but I held it in, clenching my teeth. My eyes seemed to bulge from the effort. Once the rat found itself caught in Miss Easton’s spotlight, it scrambled away down the corridor, disappearing from view.
                  Then the footsteps and the beam of light turned to the left and faded away, taking the path we were just on.
                  Once the jangle of keys was out of earshot, Wyatt and I exhaled, our breath shaky. We clicked our lights back on. Putting my hand to my forehead, I said, “That rat just about did me in.”
                  “I could tell. But you didn’t scream.” He smiled, a spark of admiration in his eyes.
                  “What would have happened if she’d caught us?”
                  “She’d tell Ivan we were down here, which we definitely don’t want.” He pointed forward, the way Miss Easton had come in. “Let’s go. It’s time to use our last resort.”
                  “We’re leaving through Ivan’s bedroom?”
                  “Yup.”
                  Even though the plan could be risky, I was anxious to leave the catacombs, so I followed without complaint. We passed the fork in the corridor and continued on, turning a corner and walking for several silent minutes before reaching a short flight of steps leading to a small plain door.
                  “Let me peek in first,” Wyatt whispered, after he’d put his ear to the door to hear if anyone was within. Turning the lock and grasping the little iron knob, he cracked open the door and looked through the slit. Then he widened the door to stick his head in. “The coast is clear,” he said, waving me on.
                  We entered the bedroom, a cavernous space with rich red walls and heavy rugs to hush our feet. This would soon be my mom’s room too. Weird. Would I be able to visit her here or would that be against the rules? After Dad died, Mom and I had made