DURING THE MORNING’S visit, Sam had almost forgotten about the stolen computer mouse. Now that it was lunchtime, she could think of nothing else.
“I can’t find it anywhere,” Aunt Vicky said, sorting through the computer cords for the third time. She turned to Armen. “Are you sure you didn’t put it in your bag by mistake?”
Sam sat at the other end of the table with Caitlin and Lucas, trying to eat her egg-salad sandwich without choking on guilt. She’d been chewing the same bite for over a minute.
“I don’t have it, Vic,” Armen said. “I’ve searched my bag, but you can go through it yourself if that’ll make you feel better.”
Aunt Vicky took his bag and did just that.
Armen glanced at Sam’s end of the table. “I don’t suppose one of you children saw what happened to the mouse?”
Caitlin was about to answer when Aunt Vicky snapped, “Don’t involve them! They don’t even have computers.”
Sam tried to swallow the gooey lump of food in her mouth but couldn’t.
I had to do it, she said silently. I’m sorry, but I had to.
“I’ve got two extra mice at my house,” Armen said. “I’ll run back and get one.”
Aunt Vicky blew the hair out of her eyes and attacked the computer cords again. “We’re already so far behind.”
The explosion was coming. Lucas continued eating like nothing was wrong, but Caitlin was stiff as a rock at Sam’s side, bracing for the inevitable. She gave Sam a small, grim nod, letting her know that at least they were in it together. At this stage, there was nothing else they could do.
Hands. Hands were so fast.
Aunt Vicky stopped. Closed her eyes. Took a deep breath. Sam watched the hard line of her shoulders round and soften, as if Aunt Vicky were remolding them out of clay. She opened her eyes again.
“I’m sorry, Armen,” Aunt Vicky said. “I was upset, and I shouldn’t have snapped at you.” She looked at Caitlin and Sam. “I’m sorry, kids.”
“It’s okay, no big deal,” Caitlin said brightly, and went back to her sandwich.
Sam sat there silently, waiting for the surprise. The twist. The sharp knuckle of a fist that would jab an arm or a leg. Aunt Vicky had been so angry, Sam was sure of it. But now, she almost seemed back to normal.
Sam had never seen her father do anything like that. Not even once. And now everyone was acting like nothing had happened.
But then … maybe nothing had happened. It was so confusing!
Aunt Vicky poured herself some iced tea and refilled Armen’s glass. Sam studied the lines around her eyes, the set of her mouth, the position of her hands. The anger was gone. Somehow Aunt Vicky had banished it completely.
“Maybe Sam and Lucas can fetch the mouse,” Aunt Vicky said. “That way, we can get started on the documentation.”
“Oh, hooray, my favorite part,” Armen said. “Lucas? Sam? Do you accept this highly important mission?”
“Sure!” Lucas said.
Sam nodded. She found herself pleased that Lucas was willing to spend time with her again after the whole compass-throwing incident.
“No dawdling,” Armen said.
“A little dawdling is fine,” Aunt Vicky countered. She smiled at Sam.
Caitlin polished off the last of her sandwich and rolled her eyes. “Is everyone in this house a complete nerd?”
Sam looked at Aunt Vicky, to see if she’d be upset. But her aunt only laughed.
“Oh, absolutely,” Aunt Vicky said.
Sam finished her lunch and headed into the sunny wilderness with Lucas. He had grabbed three Oreos on the way out and was shedding crumbs with every step. They walked along the edge of the forest, close enough to enjoy some shade but not so close that they’d be tripping on roots every three seconds.
For once, Lucas wasn’t saying anything. Sam knew why. He was upset with her about the compass. It shouldn’t have bothered her—she was leaving soon anyway!—but for some reason, it still did.
“Um … I’m sorry for yesterday,” Sam said.
Lucas’s eyes widened. “What? I told my dad what happened, and he said I was a huge jerk to you.”
“He called you a jerk?”
“Well, not exactly,” Lucas said. “He said that if you don’t want to talk about…” He paused. “He said that if you don’t want to talk about something, it’s not my place to keep talking about it anyway. He said I was inconsiderate of your feelings, or something like that.”
Sam walked in silence, thinking. Was that what had happened? Maybe it was. Maybe what happened wasn’t entirely her fault.
“But I shouldn’t have thrown the compass at you,” she said.
“Yeah, my dad agrees about that, but he said your anger was understandable on account of my jerkishness.”
Sam doubted those were Armen’s exact words, but she got the gist.
“It’s a good thing you missed,” Lucas said.
“I didn’t miss! I was aiming for your feet!”
Lucas laughed and, after a few seconds, so did Sam.
She took a chance. “I … don’t suppose I could have the compass back?” She’d be looking for the Golden Acorn soon, and it might come in handy. Not that she could tell Lucas that.
He dug into his satchel and pulled it out. “I kept it just in case.”
Sam gratefully took the compass and waited for the caveats. Only if you promise not to throw it again. Only if you get good grades. Only if you do all your chores.
Instead, Lucas pointed at a mushroom clinging to a nearby tree and proceeded to tell her everything he knew about it. Probably everything anybody knew about it, considering how long he talked. Surprisingly, Sam didn’t mind. She opened her compass and watched the needle find its way north.
When they got to Armen and Lucas’s house—which looked a lot like Aunt Vicky’s, only it was gray with white trim and there were no chickens—Sam drank a glass of water in the small, tidy kitchen while Lucas searched his father’s desk for the extra computer mouse. Among the items Lucas tossed to the floor during his excavation was a box of white envelopes.
“Oh!” Sam said. “Do you think I could borrow one of those envelopes? I have to send a letter to my best friend.”
She felt another pang of guilt. What with Mr. Sanchez’s visit and the chickens and everything, she’d barely thought about BriAnn all day.
“Sure,” Lucas said, handing her four of them. “The extras are for mistakes.” A moment later, he yanked a white computer mouse out of the bottom drawer and held it up like a trophy. “Ta-da!”
Sam wasn’t surprised to sense Ashander in the forest as they walked back to Aunt Vicky’s. The sunlight played tricks, casting leaves with tints of red like his fur, turning shadows from black to purple, like his coat. Or maybe it wasn’t the sun playing tricks, but the fox himself.
Either way, Sam got the message: Lucas was a distraction.
She wasn’t his friend, and she didn’t want to be his friend … not when BriAnn and her parents were waiting for her. This was just another part of her loyalty test.
“You got quiet,” Lucas said.
“I guess I don’t feel like talking anymore,” Sam said.
He pulled out his knitting, and Sam tried not to look as terrible as she felt.
After dinner—it was quiche this time, which was still eggs but fancier—Armen and Lucas went home. Sam was wiping down the table and waiting for Caitlin to leap up and offer to help with the dishes, like she’d done after every meal. Instead, her sister dumped her plate on the counter and started to head back to her room.
Maybe she’d just forgotten.
Hannah seemed equally baffled. “Can you please stay and help with the dishes, Caitlin?”
Sam was positive Caitlin would now fall over herself for the chance to please every adult within range.
Caitlin paused in the hallway, a strange look of disinterest on her face. “I don’t really feel like it tonight.”
Sam’s mouth fell open. Literally. Fell. Open.
Hannah recovered much faster. “When someone else cooks, the rest of us clean. It’s a house rule.”
“It’ll only take you a few minutes,” Aunt Vicky said, clearly trying to smooth things over. She’d cooked the quiche, but she was already putting foil on the leftovers. “We’d appreciate your help.”
Caitlin sighed heavily, as if they’d just asked her to clean the Augean stables, like one of Hercules’s labors. Finally, she said, “Whatever” and stomped back toward the kitchen.
Sam couldn’t take her eyes off Caitlin. Who was this person? What had happened to her sister?
She knew Caitlin was changing, but she hadn’t realized how fast.
Sam needed Pirate Princess, and she needed her now. Maybe she could sneak out while everyone was cleaning.
She cleared her throat. “I finished with the table. Is it okay if I go outside? I want to draw the chickens for BriAnn.”
Aunt Vicky grinned so big. “Sure, go ahead! They’ve already been fed, so they should be in the coop, a bunch of contented little lumps.”
“Thanks,” Sam said, and scurried back to her room. It took her all of one minute to dump out her backpack, check the hallway, and then sneak into Aunt Vicky’s room.
Pirate Princess was waiting for her, scimitar out, eyepatch in place.
“I’m sorry,” Sam whispered, and she was. She took the stuffed animal from the bed and gently placed her in the backpack, careful not to catch her bunny ears in the zipper.
There was no going back after this. It wasn’t like with the computer mouse. There was no spare Pirate Princess and no one else who could have taken her.
Aunt Vicky would know.
Aunt Vicky would never forgive her.
Sam hesitated. What was she doing?
What she had to do.
A show of loyalty.
For Ashander, and also for herself.
Sam glanced at the photographs on the wall. She shouldn’t have forgotten BriAnn today, and she would never forget her parents. This place would not change her like it was changing Caitlin.
Her hand shook as she reached for the bedroom doorknob, but she still managed to turn it. Her legs wobbled as they carried her up the hall and through the kitchen, but she still managed to reach the door.
“Don’t stay out after dark,” Hannah called.
“I won’t,” Sam said, and pushed outside.