The corner of the ledge was sharp. It dug through her pants into her knees. She twisted to brace her foot against the corner, slipped and scrambled until she had back her balance. Her bitten-off nails went white as she grabbed the frame. Parker looked up quickly, she grinned down at him. She was too high up for him to pull back down, now. She'd show him she could do this, that she was smart enough. Then he'd stay, or take her with him next time he left.
The latch on the window stuck and then released. Yesss. She swung the window open and slithered into the room. Her eyes popped. Wow. Everything in here was awful clean and there was a lot of sparklies inside the display cases. And it was warm, even though there wasn't anyone even here. Her stomach growled and she jumped at the noise.
Had to hurry, Parker said, so she darted over to the doors that lead outside. There was the chain, and there were the holes that the chain went through. She scowled at the holes and stood up on tiptoe, reaching. She could just barely touch the edge of the chain with her fingertips. The holes were too tall. She looked around the room and spotted a stool, dragged it over with a scrape of wood on wood.
Okay. She climbed up on the stool, pulled the chain until the lock was near the opening where she could reach it. It rattled and she bit her lip. Had to be quiet, Parker said, like a little mouse. Only the mice were actually pretty noisy, so maybe the noise was okay. She took the little pieces of metal he'd made her practice with in one hand and shoved her arm through the hole in the wood.
It scraped her wrist. She squinched up one eye and bit her lips while she reached for the lock, concentrating hard. Parker had made her practice over and over and over again on another lock. It wasn't the same as the one on the door, but it was close. The little twists of metal she used to pry the tumblers and turn the lock weren't real lock picks, not grown up lock picks, but Parker said that was "cause if the Watch caught her with scraps they couldn't do anything but the lock picks would be bad.
She had to lift with one bit, and twist with the other. She scowled with concentration, both eyes shut, while she fiddled the lock. It was taking too long. She hadn't taken this long when she'd been practicing. If she didn't do it right, he would leave again because she wouldn't be good enough.
The lock clicked, clunked, and the sturdy rounded crossbar popped open. She pulled back her hand and had to jump up to reach the bolt lock " the silversmith had put it at his own shoulder height when he installed it. She grabbed the door handle, jumped up as high as she could, and hit the lock back. There!
The store was open.