A gloomy light glowed from deeper inside—The Case of Lonely Things. The sign in front warned: DANGEROUSLY SAD. “Our biggest challenge,” whispered Mr. Galloway. Jasper’s knees shook, but he straightened. “Let’s go.” Maya pictured her breath like slow, safe waves on the lake to help her be brave.

In the gallery, a chipped, grey marble spun wildly in the air, sending sparks of cold, blue light around the room. Mr. Galloway explained, “That marble feels forgotten and useless.” Maya stretched out her hands, steady and open. “Small things matter,” she said kindly. She imagined playground games and happy, rolling marbles.

The wild marble floated closer to Maya’s nose. She smiled and invited Jasper to tell a marble story. Jasper described his first game of keepsies—how proud and happy he felt. Laughter filled the silent room. The marble glowed a bright emerald green, drifting down gently into Maya’s palm.

The stormy feeling faded away. Cases stopped rattling. Mr. Galloway dabbed ghostly tears. “The treasures want to thank you before sunrise.” He led them through a door into a secret room—the Moonlight Archive—filled with empty shelves, ready for new kinds of stories.