Mrs. Temperance loved many things: fresh scones, warm yarn, and stories that ended with justice. But among her lesser-known delights was preparing Bookworm Haven for the Christmas Eve scavenger hunt.

She placed the final envelope beneath the display copy of A Christmas Carol. “Perfect,” she murmured.

The clue trail led children through the store with gentle riddles. Nothing difficult. Just enough mystery to spark joy.

Olivia knelt beside the display. “Mrs. T, have you seen the envelope for clue number three?”

Mrs. Temperance stiffened. “It was here. Five minutes ago.”

They searched the table, the shelves, the wrapping cart. No envelope.

A pair of soft footsteps approached. Xander stood nearby, hands in pockets. “Is this part of the game? A meta clue?”

“No,” Mrs. T said firmly. “This is theft. Holiday theft.”

Tammy entered holding Lockie, who looked unusually pleased with himself. “Someone’s been running laps through the store. Lockie keeps chasing shadows.”

Mrs. Temperance’s gaze sharpened. “Shadows.”

She followed the faintest flicker under the poetry section. A small figure crouched behind the lower shelf.

“Hello,” Mrs. T said warmly.

A little girl looked up, cheeks flushed. “I didn’t steal it. I borrowed it.”

Mrs. T knelt with care. “Borrowed it for what purpose, dear?”

The girl held out the envelope. “I didn’t understand the clue. I wanted to take it somewhere quiet to figure it out. I didn’t want to ruin the game.”

Mrs. T’s heart softened. “You cannot ruin a game if you are trying your best. May I help?”

The girl nodded shyly.

They read the clue together:

“Find the shelf where winter sings,
Where frosted tales grow snowy wings.”

Mrs. T smiled. “That refers to the seasonal picture books.”

The child’s eyes brightened. “Oh! I thought it meant the freezer section at Mrs. Hubbard’s Cupboard.”

Mrs. T laughed. “A creative deduction.”

They returned the envelope to its place. The girl headed toward the picture books, Lockie trotting after her like a proud escort.

Olivia whispered, “Crisis averted.”

Mrs. T folded her hands. “Christmas is for learning, my dear. And sometimes, for borrowing clues.”