Under_The_Whispering_Door_by_TJ_Klune

They all fell into a schedule of sorts. Or, rather, they added Wallace to the
one they already followed. Mei and Hugo were up before the sun, blinking
blearily as they yawned and came down the stairs, ready to start another day
at Charon’s Crossing Tea and Treats. At first, Wallace wasn’t sure how they
did it, as the tea shop never had a day off, even on the weekend, and there
were no other employees. Mei and Hugo ran everything, Mei mostly in
charge of the kitchen during the day while Hugo ran the register and made the
tea. They were a team, moving around each other like they were dancing, and
he felt the hook tugging gently in his chest at the sight of it.
Those first days, Wallace stayed in the kitchen, listening to Mei’s terrible
music, watching Hugo through the portholes. Hugo greeted most everyone by
name, asking after their friends and families and jobs while he punched the
ancient keys of the register. He laughed with them, patiently nodding along
with even the most long-winded of customers. Every now and then, he’d
glance back at the kitchen doors, seeing Wallace looking out. He’d give a
small smile before turning back to greet the next person in line.
It was on his eighth day in the tea shop that Wallace came to a decision.
He’d spent a good portion of the morning working up the nerve, unsure of
why it was taking him so long. The people in the tea shop wouldn’t be able to
see him. They’d never know he was even there.
Mei was telling him about how she’d tried to make tea but somehow had
ended up almost burning down the kitchen, and therefore was never allowed
to touch even the smallest of tea leaves again. “Hugo was horrified,” she
said, leaning over to look at a batch of cookies in the oven. “You would’ve
thought I’d stabbed him in the back. I think these are burning. Or maybe
they’re supposed to look like that.”
“Uh-huh,” Wallace said, distracted. “I’m going out.”
“Right? I mean, it wasn’t that bad. Just smoke damage, but … wait.
What?”
“I’m going out,” he said again. And then he went through the doors and out
into the tea shop, not waiting for a response.
Part of him still expected everyone to stop midsentence and turn slowly to
stare at him. While he’d been able to move a chair (only breaking two more,
though one did leave gouges in the ceiling when Wallace accidentally kicked