Jackson and I decided that this was all too scary. We had to tell Mom and Dad. We knew it wouldn’t be easy, but we had to make them believe us about our powers — and about Inspector Cranium.

The next morning, we hurried down to breakfast. Dad was hunched over the newspaper at the kitchen table. Mom stood at the sink, filling the teakettle.

I grabbed an English muffin and stuffed it into the toaster. Jackson poured himself a glass of orange juice.

I took a deep breath. “We have something to tell you,” I said.

“You mean like ‘good morning’?” Mom said.

“Yeah. Good morning,” I said. “Jackson and I — well, it’s a long story, and I know you won’t believe us. But it’s totally true.”

“It’s kind of scary,” Jackson said.

That got their attention.

Dad raised his eyes from the laptop. Mom set the kettle on the stove and turned to us. “Scary? Like how scary?”

“Are you in trouble at school?” Dad said.

“No. Nothing like that,” I said. “This is different. This is kind of … unbelievable.”

“Did something happen last night when we were out?” Mom asked.

“We’ll tell you all about it,” Jackson said. “But you have to promise one thing.”

“No promises,” Dad said sharply. “No promises till you tell us what it is.”

“Okay. Fine,” I said. “It’s just that … well …”

“Just spill it,” Mom said. She walked up behind Dad and put her hands on his shoulders.

“What’s with all the hemming and hawing?” Mom said. “Just tell us what you have to say, Jillian. You know your father and I will always understand.”

“Right,” I said. “Well … okay. Here goes. I … uh … well … Jackson and I …”

I stared at Mom and Dad. My breath caught in my throat. I opened my mouth to try again.

But my mind was a complete blank.

I couldn’t remember what I wanted to tell them.

I tried to think. I shut my eyes and concentrated.

How could this happen?

Mom and Dad both turned to my brother. “Jackson?”

Jackson nodded. I could see he was thinking hard. He set down the orange juice glass. He cleared his throat.

Dad jumped up from the table. “Will you two stop acting so stupid and tell us what your problem is?”

Jackson and I exchanged horrified glances.

My brain — it was empty. Empty. Empty.

I suddenly felt sick. My stomach heaved. I pressed my hand over my mouth.

I started to shake with panic. What was wrong with me? What was wrong with my brain?

“S-sorry,” I stammered. “I don’t remember what it was.”

“Sorry,” Jackson repeated. He had gone very pale. “I don’t remember, either.”

“Guess it wasn’t very important,” Mom said quietly.

“You’re both joking, right?” Dad said. “You cooked up this joke together?”

My muffin popped up in the toaster.

“Have your breakfast,” Mom said. “Maybe you’ll remember what you wanted to tell us.”

“Maybe …” I said. I didn’t feel like eating. My stomach was churning. My head felt heavy, as if a big rock had replaced my brain.

Jackson and I couldn’t wait to get out of the house. We had to talk. We had to figure out why we couldn’t remember.

And as soon as Jackson and I headed out the door, our memories returned.

I gasped as it all came back to me. I started to laugh. I was so happy I hadn’t lost my mind!

Jackson and I both realized what had happened to us.

Cranium. The Institute. Finney said they could send out their own vibrations.

That’s what they did. They’d messed with our brains. They’d kept us from telling our story to our parents. They really were spying on us.

“He controlled our minds,” I said. “He kept us from remembering. I — I couldn’t even speak!”

“I just have one question,” Jackson said. “If he has that kind of power … what else does he plan to do to us?”