Zuri and the Clay Snail

Zuri lived at the foot of the ninety-nine steps, a long stone staircase that climbs a hill above the sea. On Monday morning, a smooth blue pebble was waiting outside her kitchen window. It had a perfect hole through the middle, and it was still a little damp. On Tuesday there was a white gull feather with a grey tip. On Wednesday, a tiny clay snail sat between them.

The snail was no bigger than a button. Its shell was a neat spiral, and two dots made its eyes. Zuri lined up the three gifts on the windowsill and frowned. Nobody in her family had left them, and the stairs were empty at six o’clock; she had checked. “Somebody climbs all these steps before breakfast,” she told the snail, “and I am going to find out who.”