The brass key felt heavier than it looked. Mr. Lewis closed Ethan's fingers around it, then turned back to the light fixture overhead and climbed the ladder with slow, practiced movements, twisting the new bulb into place as if nothing unusual had happened at all."You'll have to force the last lock," he said, not looking down. "Hinges haven't been touched in years."The lights flickered once, then steadied, and the hallway brightened around them. Mr. Lewis huffed at the fixture. "They always complain when the lights go out."Ethan slipped the key into his pocket. "They'll complain a lot more if we fail."The old janitor's hands stilled on the bulb. After a moment he climbed down and picked up his toolbox. "When Tom first brought Emma here, she cried. Didn't want to leave her old school." A quiet laugh escaped him. "So he carried her all the way to the classroom on his shoulders. By lunchtime she'd forgotten she was ever scared." He snapped the toolbox shut.For the first time since w