Another day, another shift at the Mystery Shack spent watching the tourists when Wendy wasn’t watching the clock. It wasn’t that she disliked working at the Shack, but watching predictable tourists day after day became boring after a while. A lazy yawn escaped her as her eyes darted yet again to the wall clock and she covered her mouth with her hand in a weak attempt to stifle it..

     The daily monotone was broken unexpectedly when she saw a blonde girl enter the museum. It struck her as odd that the girl wasn’t accompanied by an adult—was she alone? Once Wendy had caught her eye, she gave a small wave and a friendly smile.