Saturday morning, I awoke to a crowing rooster. It was tempting to lie in bed a little longer, thinking of Josh, reliving his kiss, but I had chores to do. So I slipped into my grubbiest clothes and went on a treasure hunt.

Inhaling the crisp air, I picked a trail through dewy grass. Nona’s cow, Daphne, mooed from the pasture and a meadowlark chimed in with a cheerful song. Even though I’d been living with Nona for nearly four months, I had one of those “Ohmygod, I can’t believe I’m here,” culture-shock moments. I expected to hear arguing neighbors or traffic whizzing by with honking horns. But at Nona’s farm, the only honking came from flocks of geese. No noisy little sisters bugging me, hammering on their many musical instruments, showing off their talents. And I didn’t have to face the condemning stares from classmates, teachers—even my own mother. Living with Nona was a new start.

Entering the chicken coop, I made my way through dirt, feathers, and chicken poop. The first eight eggs were easy to find lying on the ground. One, two, three more tucked in a nest of weeds. But some hens hid their eggs carefully, and it took at least ten minutes before I finally spotted a speckled green egg tucked under a dark corner of the coop. Crawling on my knees, I reached out for the still-warm egg. A gentle nudge and my prize rolled close.

“An even dozen,” I murmured triumphantly, adding the egg to my basket.

“Why not go for a baker’s dozen?”

Dominic stood outside the chicken coop with his arms folded across his chest. His falcon wasn’t around, probably soaring over the woods in search of breakfast. “You missed one,” he said in a mocking tone.

“Oh yeah?”

“Look under that bush.” He pointed to a prickly berry bush with tangled and barbed vines twining through the fence.

“Forget it.” I shook my head. “That’s too thorny even for the chickens.”

“Never underestimate an animal. It’s a large egg, too.”

“How do you know? You can’t possibly see a tiny egg through all those vines.”

“A little bird told me.”

“Yeah. Right.” I rolled my eyes but couldn’t resist a challenge. Cautiously, I pulled the vines aside and peered into the bushes. “Nothing there.”

“It’s toward the left. Yeah, you should be touching it now.”

As he said “now,” my hand closed around a smooth egg.

Instead of being grateful, I wanted to slap the smug smirk off his face. Only when I looked up, ready to tell him off, I saw a woman hovering beside him.

She was part sunshine and part fog. Short dark hair curled above her neck and smile lines crinkled around her shining black eyes. I knew without being told that Dominic had called this woman “Mom.”

“What are you staring at?” Dominic demanded sharply.

“Can’t you see?” I asked in a trembling whisper.

“See what?”

“Her.” The woman reached out to Dominic, surrounding him with love as sweet as a summer breeze.

“There’s no one here except us. ” Dominic furrowed his brow, looking around with a puzzled expression.

I shook my head, realizing too late that I was the only one weird enough to see ghosts. It hadn’t happened like this since moving in with Nona. Even the night shadows and the voices had quieted down. But I should have known it wouldn’t last. I was cursed, an unwilling messenger for spirits. Once again, the other world was bleeding into my own.

My darling Nicky, I heard the woman say.

“Who’s Nicky?” I asked.

Dominic’s mouth fell open. “No one’s called me that since I was young. Since my mother—”

“Died,” I finished.

I left my son too soon. Couldn’t help when he needed me. She held out wispy arms in an imploring gesture. I felt her emotions: love, loss, and longing. Tell him ‘A nickel for your thoughts.’

“A nickel for your thoughts?” I repeated in confusion. “Isn’t that saying supposed to be ‘A penny for your thoughts?’”

The color had faded from Dominic’s face. He lunged forward, grabbing my arms. “What kind of game are you playing?”

“Nothing.” I shook him off. “And don’t you ever grab me again!”

His shoulders sagged. “Sorry. But my mother always said ‘nickel’ because of my name. No one else knew that. How did you?”

I shook my head, overwhelmed with emotions as I watched a tear fall from his mother’s misty face. She lifted her hand to show a silver coin glittering in her palm. A nickel. Reaching out with filmy fingers, she tucked the nickel in Dominic’s pocket. Her body began to fade until all that was left were bright blue eyes. Then they rose high like ascending stars, blending blue into sky.

And she was gone.

Dominic looked at me with disbelief. “What are you seeing?”

“Nothing,” I answered truthfully.

“Then why did you say that stuff? Did someone tell you about my mom?”

“No. I don’t know anything.” I hugged my basket to my chest, glancing down at the eggs. “I—I have to go.”

He stepped in front of me. “Not until you explain what just happened.”

“I can’t. I never can.” Then clutching the basket to my pounding chest, I pushed past him.

The door to the house banged behind me as I entered the kitchen. Setting the basket on the tile counter, I bent over to catch my breath. What had just happened? Why had Dominic’s mother appeared to me? Had she been using me to visit her son one last time? Or had she come to warn of danger?

I shuddered, remembering that fatal prom night. I’d known the boy was going to die, yet could do nothing to save him.

As I placed the eggs in an egg carton, I wondered if I should go to Nona and confess everything. She’d know how to help. She often told me how we’d come from a long line of psychics. It had skipped a generation with my mother, but Nona was certain I’d inherited the family “gift,” that the black streak through my blond hair was the mark of a Seer. She’d offered to nurture my abilities, but I didn’t want to be different. I wanted to be an ordinary person who didn’t see ghosts or know things before they happened. Besides, I could never be certain whether I was predicting tragedies or causing them.

So I’d lied to Nona, insisting that I’d outgrown my “gift.” It took some convincing, but she eventually believed me. If I told her the truth now, she’d never trust me again, and she’d be deeply hurt.

I couldn’t bear that.

So I whispered a plea to my spirit guide to make all the weirdness go away. Then I took the cordless phone into my room and shut the door.

I wanted to talk to Josh, but knew he was busy with his family this weekend. Instead, I made my weekly calls home, which felt wonderfully normal. I had a quick talk with Dad who could be found at his office even on Saturday. Then I made a call to my sisters—Ashley was out with friends, so I talked to Amy. She had a collection of vintage girl series books and described the entire plot of her newest addition, a dust-jacketed copy of Swamp Island Mystery. She was explaining how the author also wrote some original Nancy Drews when I heard my mother’s voice in the background. But I didn’t ask to speak to her, nor did she ask to speak to me. There was nothing to say.

I’d barely hung up when Penny-Love called, wanting to know all about my date with Josh. I was delighted to tell her. I was describing “the kiss” in delicious detail, when Penny-Love had a call waiting beep and left me on hold. Seconds later, she came back, apologetic because she had to go to a cheer practice.

“We’ll talk later,” she promised.

“Not till Monday,” I complained. “You’re always so busy.”

“So come with me to the cheer club meeting tomorrow night at Jill’s house.”

“But I’m not a cheerleader.”

“When did that ever matter? You’re practically part of the squad, like a mascot.”

“I’ve seen the mascot costumes—and no way am I dressing up like a shark.”

“You have a point.” Penny-Love laughed. “The costumes are really lame. Lucky for you, there’s no costume required to hang with us. And you’re so artistic, the group will be thrilled to have your help. Say you’ll come.”

“Okay, okay.” I laughed at her. “I’ll come.”

After hanging up, I wandered into the kitchen for a snack. I’d skipped breakfast and it was past time for lunch. A PLT—pickle, lettuce, and tomato—sandwich sounded good. Or maybe some clam chowder?

While I tried to decide, I noticed the egg carton where I left it on the counter. I’d meant to put it in the refrigerator. I started to pick it up when I heard a crash from the back of the house.

Worried about Nona, I set the carton down and ran out of the kitchen. When I entered my grandmother’s office, I found her digging through her closet, with her rear stuck up in the air.

“Nona, are you okay?” I asked, coming up beside her.

“Yes. This is just so frustrating!” My grandmother tossed a box on the floor beside me and swore under her breath.

“What?”

“I can’t find the notebook where I wrote down my computer password.” She shuffled through a folder, then tossed that aside, too.

“Don’t you know the password by memory?”

“I did until yesterday when I updated my computer and changed the password. Then I wrote it down in a blue notebook, just in case I forgot.”

“And you forgot?”

“I thought it was ‘cupid,’ but that turned out to be an old password. So I tried ‘sonnet,’ ‘valentine,’ and ‘sweetheart.’ None worked! Where did I put my notebook?” She sank wearily into her swivel desk chair. “I even consulted my crystals and the tarot, but that didn’t help either.”

“You don’t need the other side, Nona. I’m here for you.”

“Thanks, sweetie. All my client information is on my computer. I’m ruined if I can’t access my files. I know I put the notebook in a safe, dark place where I wouldn’t lose it—only now I have.”

I patted her arm reassuringly. “We’ll find it.”

But after checking every folder, drawer, shelf, and scrap of paper, we didn’t.

I was ready to go against everything I believed in—or didn’t want to believe in—and ask Opal for help. But before I got a chance, Nona suggested we put the search on hold and have lunch. When we entered the kitchen, I spotted the egg carton still on the counter where I’d left it.

“You’re not the only one who forgets things,” I told my grandmother with a wry smile. “I better put it away.”

I pulled open the refrigerator door. Then I stared in astonishment. I couldn’t help myself—I started laughing.

“What is it?” Nona demanded.

“Look!” I pointed inside the refrigerator where a blue spiral-bound book was propped between a blueberry jam jar and a catsup bottle.

I’d found Nona’s missing notebook.