Z FELT LIKE HE couldn’t do anything right. When he had tried Ariel’s moves, the cards fell all over the floor. But the worst part was messing up his routine—more proof that he was cursed. No wonder he’d forgotten to take a dollar for his trick and to set up the gimmick pen. Sure, he did okay in the end and got to see what was in the Vault, and sure, it had lots of cool stuff. But he knew Mrs. Garza gave him the key to be nice, not because she thought he deserved it. What did Ariel say? That she could do his trick when she was four? So he was as good as a four-year-old, huh? He bet she was keeping score in that little notebook of hers. He bet she had a secret point system and ranked him last. It was the only thing that made sense.

When he got home, the house was quiet for once. His dad sat at the table with a sudoku puzzle, while his mom did a crossword. They always did brain teasers when the house was empty. It was the only time they could think.

“Where is everybody?” Z asked.

His mom said, “Working or out with friends.”

Z joined his parents at the table. “Want to do a word search?” his dad asked, pushing a booklet toward him.

“No,” Z said. “I’m kinda tired. Today was my big performance at the magic shop.”

He waited for his parents to ask a follow-up question, but they were too focused on their puzzles. His dad counted to nine under his breath as he tapped squares on the paper, and his mom kept mumbling, “A six-letter word that begins with ‘w.’”

Z elaborated anyway. “So I did my Pen-through-Dollar trick. I messed up, but Dominic and Loop messed up, too. I kinda messed up more than they did, but I still got a key to the Vault.”

“Mm-hmm,” his parents said in unison.

Z knew they weren’t paying attention, so he decided to test them. “And then I floated in the air for thirty seconds.” He waited, but they didn’t respond. “No strings attached,” he added.

“That’s nice,” his mom said.

No one else was in the room, not even the dog. For once, he had his parents all to himself, but instead of listening to him, they stared at their puzzles.

“You didn’t hear a word I said!”

His mom and dad looked up.

“Watch your tone,” his father warned.

“But I’m talking, and you’re not listening. You never listen to me!”

His parents glanced at each other, and then they put down their pencils. “We’re sorry,” his mother said. “We were just enjoying a quiet moment. We didn’t mean to ignore you.”

“Talk to us,” his dad said. “What’s on your mind, mijo?”

“Okay,” Z began. “I’ve got an entry form for a magic competition.” He pushed it toward them. “I really want to go.”

“This is wonderful,” his mother said. “Everybody needs an interest—like my crossword puzzles and your brother’s boxing.”

“And my floors,” his dad added, since he knew everything about floors.

“So can I go?” Z asked. “Dominic and Loop will be there, too.”

His mother studied the form. “It looks expensive,” she said, handing it to his father. He glanced at it and handed it back to Z without reading a single word!

“Go put it on my desk,” his father said. “We’ll look at it later.”

“But can I go?” Z asked again.

His mother reached across the table and squeezed his hand. “For something like this,” she explained, “your father and I have to talk. There’s a lot to consider before we give you permission.”

Z knew this was code for “we don’t have the money,” but since the competition wasn’t until the end of the summer, maybe his parents could find a way to save enough. He thought about the Bill Switch, where a magician took a one-dollar bill, folded it up, and then unfolded it to reveal a ten- or twenty-dollar bill instead. So maybe it was possible to take a little bit of money and turn it into a lot.

He decided to hope for the best as he went to his parents’ bedroom, where his dad’s desk was. There was a computer and printer on it. There was a giant calendar with his floor appointments. There were envelopes, some opened and some still sealed. There were pencils, pens, markers, catalogs, and a Bible. Z took a Post-it and wrote a note. “Please look at this. It’s very important. I know it costs money, but I really want to enter this contest.” He signed it with a big “Z,” just like Zorro. Then he put it on the desk, hoping that it wouldn’t be invisible, like him.