“You were a genie,” Eden said in wonder. The knowledge was nearly impossible to absorb. She could feel that the car had started moving, though little was visible through the dark tinted windows. She gazed at the president’s—Faye’s—genie bracelet on her aged, spot-speckled wrist.

“One of the few who wished for mortality,” Faye said. “And of those, the only one still alive.”

“And you’re the president of the United States!” Eden squeezed some water from her braid. “Wait a second. You coming to San Diego is a big deal—I saw it on the news and everything. You didn’t come—”

“For you? Of course I did.” Faye watched amusedly as this sank in.

“But don’t you have more important things to do?”

“More important than this? I don’t think so.”

Eden shook her head in amazement. “I can’t believe the president is an alum! Why wouldn’t Xavier and Goldie tell me? You’d think they’d brag about you.”

Now that she was close to Faye, Eden could detect traces of the young strawberry blonde from the course guide: the shape of her lips, the arch of her light eyebrows. And her eyes were just the same: piercing, but kind.

“I don’t communicate with Xavier and Goldie,” Faye said. “When I retired, I told them I wanted to leave that world behind me, and they’ve honored that. I’m sure they’ve kept up with my career, but they’ve never tried to contact me.”

“I’m sure they have too. Xavier was at that UN summit you spoke at.” Faye’s eyebrows lifted subtly, and a pleased look crossed her face.

“But I thought all the genies who’d wished for mortality were long gone.” Eden thought back to her last day of lessons, when she’d studied Faye’s section in the course guide. “The last genie in the lamp before me was Cadence, and you were just before her. Right? You were the resident genie up until the start of the Second World War.”

“That’s right.”

“Then how are you still alive? You would have been fifty when you left the lamp. You’re not over a hundred mortal years old, are you?”

“You forget,” Faye said gently, “there are no limits for a genie’s last wish. I didn’t wish for mortal life continuing from the point of my retirement. I wished to be born into the world as a mortal, and age from that point forward.”

Eden’s heart surged with a sudden, desperate need for empathy. “Did you hate being a genie too?”

Something small and dear collapsed behind Faye’s eyes, but it wasn’t what Eden had hoped for.

“No,” she said. “I loved my years in the lamp. When I was granting, I got to light up mortals’ lives. That made me want to change the world for the better.” She sighed. “Though I must say, it’s been more difficult than I imagined.”

Eden remembered the speech Bola had played on the TV. President Porter—Faye—had said you couldn’t see the world’s beauty until you brightened it. Who would have guessed it had all started with granting wishes!

In the pool, Eden had seen in vivid detail how a genie’s power could be used to harm humanity. But Faye was on the opposite end of the spectrum: she was a perfect example of how much good could come of granting.

Eden felt like she’d been studying a painting for hours and just learned it was upside down. Maybe she’d been looking at her job all wrong.

“So now you’re mortal,” Eden said. “That means you’re going to die?”

“Hopefully not for a while.”

“But why would you choose that? Wouldn’t you rather stay and light up Earth forever?”

“Life on Earth was designed to begin and to end. It’s hard for a genie to see that from the lamp.”

Eden stared at Faye’s frail frame and sagging skin. Even though she looked older than the immortals, she was centuries younger than most of them. But while they had wasted centuries spent in bitterness or decadence, Faye had fought to make the world a better place.

Was that because she was mortal, or was it the other way around? What made a woman wise? What gave meaning to a life?

For some reason, tears blurred Eden’s eyes. “I’m sorry,” she said. “It’s been a long couple of days.”

“Don’t be sorry. You’re being very brave.” Undeterred by the puddle forming under her, Faye moved to the seat beside Eden and wrapped an arm around her.

“What should I do?” Eden asked. “I’m not going to give the lamp to the Electric, but I don’t know how to get them off my trail. And the Loyals are doing everything they can to try to convince me to go back.”

Faye pursed her lips. “Are you ready to go back?”

“No,” Eden said emphatically. “My heart is here. I’m not meant for the lamp.”

“But even if you manage to evade the alumni, your time on Earth will inevitably end when the boy makes his other two wishes.”

Eden squinted. “You know everything, huh?”

Faye smiled in answer.

“How?”

“I used to be a genie. And I’m president of the United States. I may be mortal, but I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve.”

Eden shook her head. “Anyway, Tyler’s not going to use those wishes. He wants to keep me here on Earth.” Warmth flowed from her head to her toes as she said it aloud.

Faye paused before replying.

“But while you’re here, the world’s wishes can’t be granted.”

It took a moment to register the pang of another betrayal.

“But you’re not one of the Loyals,” Eden insisted. “You just rescued me from them!”

“I took you away from them because I don’t think you should be intimidated into going back to the lamp,” Faye said. Then, more gently: “You should do it because it’s right.”

Eden’s heart seared with pain. She’d never felt more alone.

“I know you believe you weren’t meant for the lamp. But you’re a genie. It’s who you are. Before you can live here on Earth, you need to carry out your duties as a genie.”

Everything in her wanted to argue, but this time Eden couldn’t find the words.

Faye checked her cell phone. “The students have returned to classes. We’ll drop you off at the end of the building closest to your locker. The door will be unlocked.”

Eden wiped away another tear. “It isn’t fair,” she said—but even as she said it, she knew what the answer would be.

Faye smiled sadly as she spoke Xavier’s words:

“Life isn’t fair, my darling.”

The car had come to a stop. One of the Secret Service men opened the door and let the shocking sunlight in.

Just before Eden slid out of the seat, Faye placed her warm, wrinkled hands on her arm.

“You know,” she said, “you’re not like anyone else on Earth. Mortal or immortal. Don’t forget that.” She squeezed her arm softly. “Only you can make this decision. Now go, and make the right one.”

The door was open, just like Faye had said. Eden stole down the silent hall, spun her locker’s combination, grabbed the denim backpack, and ducked into the restroom.

Luckily, no one was inside. Eden stared at herself in the mirror. She was a mess—all damp and bedraggled. Her eyes were ringed with red. She unraveled her wet braid and tried to comb her fingers through it, but the pool’s chlorine had made it stiff and sticky.

Images from her trip into Sylvana’s grantings were pinging through her mind like pinballs. The Loyals were right: she had underestimated Sylvana. Knowing what she knew now, it was absurd to think she’d imagined they were just alike! Her own silly tricks on wishers were nothing compared to the horrors she’d witnessed.

And yet, her short exchange with Faye had hit her hardest. This time she respected the person who’d told her what she didn’t want to hear. Maybe—maybe—that meant it was time to listen.

She unzipped the backpack and pulled out the lamp. Holding it in her hands, she considered.

What if she went back now? Maybe it was the right thing to do. Electra would lose any chance of getting the lamp, the Loyals would be satisfied, and everything would return to normal.

But wouldn’t Tyler and Sasha be sad if she disappeared?

Wouldn’t they wonder why she hadn’t said goodbye?

One thing was certain: if she made the request for reentry, Tyler wouldn’t get to make his other wishes. Those wishes could change the Rockwells’ lives. After the trouble she’d caused, didn’t she owe that much to them?

She slipped the lamp back into the backpack. Besides her notebook, there was one more thing inside—a stiff paper rectangle.

She couldn’t help smiling when she saw what it was: the photo from the roller coaster. In it, she and Tyler were screaming with their hands in the air. They looked happier than mortals who’d just won the lottery’s biggest prize. Even though it was the first photo she’d ever seen of herself, she knew that what it had captured didn’t exist inside the lamp.

The girl in the photograph was Eden on Earth. The girl she was always meant to be.

“Here you are!”

Hurriedly Eden tucked the photo into her back pocket. Ms. Mattris was standing at the door. “We’ve been looking for you.”

Eden cleared her throat. “I was just going back to class—”

“No, come with me,” Ms. Mattris said. “Your mother’s here.”

“Well, she can turn around and leave. I’m not going with her.”

“Actually, you have to.” Eden’s stomach dropped as Sylvana stepped into the bathroom. “You’re no longer a student at this school.”