Page 39 of Hacking the Holidays
Then she walked toward me.
I was confident she hadn’t finished, but was just stretching.
“It’s about time you took a break,” I said. “Grab yourself a cup of coffee in the break room.”
“Sorry—I thought it was time for dinner,” she said simply. “Aren’t you getting ready to close the library?”
“True—I don’t know what I was thinking. You’re coming in tomorrow, right?”
“Bright and early,” she said.
“Good. You can continue working on the bug then.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Rose said. “I’m done.”
I stared at her. “I’m sorry, what?”
“It’s fixed.” She shrugged with studied nonchalance. “Test it if you don’t believe me.”
I chuckled. “Even if I believed you, I would still test it.” I abandoned my budget reports and crossed to her workstation. “Okay, show me what you’ve got.”
Rose pulled up the search interface. “Give me the title of a book, something you know wasn’t showing up in the system.”
I thought about it for a second …
“To Kill a Mockingbird,” I answered. “We have three copies, but the database search was only returning one—sometimes zero.”
Rose typed in the title and pressed enter.
Three results populated immediately, complete with accurate availability status and shelf locations.
I ran another search.
The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy.
“All copies accounted for,” I said, blinking at the results.
I ran a few more searches, and every query returned complete, accurate results. No missing entries. No random gaps. The bug had vanished as if it had never existed.
“How did you—” I shook my head in disbelief. “That should have taken at least a full day, maybe longer.”
“I’m fast,” Rose said with a hint of amusement.
“Fast doesn’t cover it,” I said.
Eleanor appeared beside us so quietly that we both startled. She had her coat on and her purse slung over her shoulder, keys already in hand.
“I hate to interrupt what looks like a fascinating conversation, but I’m closing up and I’m absolutely starving,” she said. “Please tell me you two are ready for bratwurst.”
“Definitely ready,” I said.
“Starving,” Rose agreed.
“Perfect!” Eleanor beamed.
We locked down the workstations, and I did a quick sweep of my desk to make sure nothing sensitive was left out. Rose headed to the coat rack near the entrance and pulled down her jacket, fumbling slightly as she tried to shrug it on while simultaneously reaching for her purse.
She unzipped her purse and rummaged inside, pulling out a tube of lip balm. As she did, the bag tilted toward me, its contents partially visible in the overhead light.
