Tracy
Tracy took the packages from Sasha and numbly followed Chris out of the sleigh. The lump in her throat kept her from talking.
Tracy had failed. Science fair judges didn't accept “magic” as the result of a science experiment. True, she had a few pictures from her stolen camera, but they weren't enough. And even if they were, she didn't have the right to expose everything Santa Command worked to keep hidden. What would happen if she did? Would they keep doing it once everyone knew the truth? Or would Santa Claus just go away, because people had nothing to believe in? Tracy wouldn't take that risk. She set her pile of presents down and walked to the edge of the roof.
There was a lake in Pim's backyard. It was small, with a few ducks and turtles, and it wasn't too far away. Tracy pulled the camera out of her pocket and hurled it all the way out to the center of the lake. It sunk straight to the bottom.
“What was that?” Chris asked over her shoulder.
“Nothing,” Tracy said. “Nothing at all.”
She couldn't meet Chris' eyes as she grabbed her presents and walked back to the chimney. “Dust me, Sasha,” she said to the Inkling, and she jumped.
Once in the living room, Tracy dropped the presents under the tree and shuffled down the hall to her cousin's first floor bedroom. Pim used to be on the second floor, but since the accident put her in a wheelchair, her parents switched bedrooms with her to make it easier to get around.
Tracy sunk to her knees beside Pim's bed, dropped her forehead onto the mattress, and cried. She didn't hear the footsteps behind her until Chris spoke up.
“Your cousin?”
“Please,” Tracy begged. “You have magic. Please fix her.”
“Tracy…”
“Please.” Tracy looked back at him. “If you heal Pim, I won't ask for another Christmas present ever again. And I promise to always listen to my parents, and clean my room, and—”
“I wish I could.” Chris moved up beside her and placed a warm hand on her shoulder. He sounded very sad. “Even I don't have enough magic to undo this.”
In her heart, Tracy knew that was the truth. Chris knew when kids were sleeping, and when they were awake, and when they were injured. If he had the power, he would have already fixed her. Hearing him say “no” still ripped her insides to shreds.
Sasha scrambled up onto the bed and gently touched Tracy's arm. “I'm so sorry.”
Tracy's eyes burned as the tears came flowing out.
Her sobs were enough to wake Pim. The girl yawned, then blinked a few times, and for a brief second, her eyes focused on the Inkling. Then, she scrunched up her face and squeaked out two words in a completely terrified voice.
“Santa! No!”