Once they were gone, I turned toward Ramsey. "Today is twelve-twelve, December twelfth, and whatever is supposed to happen, Vickie knew about that too."

"What's the significance of December twelfth?" Ramsey asked the raven.

It took to the air toward the second story. A dark, warped hollow in the trunk of the tree shelves spilled books and loose pages, and the raven pecked at a red book lying on its side.

Ramsey followed, and without even pausing to ...