"Come on," she said now, starting up the steps to the school. "No matter what's happening at home, I still need to be there. I'll keep an eye out for Muffin. I promise."

The moment he stepped through the door, Jared's worst fears about what St. Ignatius might be like were instantly validated. The front door opened onto a long, narrow corridor lit only by a few old-fashioned glass globes that hung at the intersections where other hallways led off to the right and left. The walls were wainscoted, but the wood and plaster had been painted the same color-a sort of beige that looked yellowish and dirty. The floor was covered with a dark linoleum unbroken by any pattern, unless you could count a worn strip down the middle through which the wood of the floor beneath was starting to show. Jared decided the worn strip didn't count.

As they made their way to the office, Jared and Kim glanced uneasily at each other, but neither said anything.

Half an hour later, after their mother had left, the twins started up the stairs to their new homeroom. "You'll like Sister Clarence," Father Bernard, the priest who ran St. Ignatius, had assured them. "She's one of our best teachers, and all the children love her."

"Not exactly like Shreveport, is it?" Jared observed as they emerged from the stairwell onto the second-floor landing. Ahead of them stretched a duplicate of the corridor on the first floor, except this one contained a bank of lockers, two of which had been assigned to them. "They'll need to have locks, of course," Father Bernard had told Janet. "We require combination locks, and the combinations must be on file in the office." He'd fixed Jared with a hard look, as if he expected his charges to try to get away with as much as they could. "We do spot checks, and if the combination has been changed, it is an automatic one-week suspension."

Now, as Jared eyed the lockers, he grinned at his sister. " 'Spose if I put a padlock with a key on my locker, I could get kicked out completely?"

Kim resisted the urge to laugh. "Let's just make the best of it. Mom's got enough problems without having to worry about us."

Jared sighed. "I know. But I'd still like to see the look on Father Bernard's face if he found a lock he couldn't open."

They found their room halfway down the hall, and Jared pulled the door open for Kim. As they stepped through, the black-clad figure who had been writing on the blackboard turned and impaled them with a stare that knifed through steel-rimmed glasses.

"I am Sister Clarence," she said.

"I'm Jared Con-" Jared began, but the nun cut him off.

"I know who you are." She indicated two seats in the second row with the slightest nod of her cowled head. "We are discussing the role of the Vatican in World War Two," she went on. "You've already missed the first two weeks of school. I'll expect you to have caught up with the reading by tomorrow."

As she turned back to the blackboard, Jared and Kim slipped into their seats at the old-fashioned school desks. Directly behind Jared sat Luke Roberts, who slipped Jared a note. Jared unfolded the note and read the scrawled message.

Welcome to St. Ignoramus.

Suppressing a smile, Jared refolded the note and passed it across to Kim. A nearly inaudible giggle escaped her lips. She silenced it a moment too late.

"You will share that note with the rest of the class, Kimberley," Sister Clarence pronounced, her eyes boring into Kim, whose face reddened.

"I-It doesn't really-"

"Stand up," Sister Clarence ordered. "In this school, we always stand when we are spoken to, or when we wish to speak."

Her knees trembling, her flush deepening, Kim got to her feet.

"Read the note," the nun ordered.

Kim bit her Up, and her eyes darted to her brother, who winked at her. "'Welcome to Saint Ignoramus,'" she read, her voice barely audible.

"I can't hear you," Sister Clarence said, each word a chip of ice. Kim's face burned. The nun certainly hadn't had any trouble hearing her a minute ago, when all she'd done was utter an almost silent giggle.

She read the note again-more loudly-into the hush that had fallen over the room.

"And you think that's funny," Sister Clarence said, her voice making it clear that her words were not a question.

Kim said nothing.

"Does anyone else think it's funny?" Sister Clarence asked.

Though Kim dared not even glance around, she knew that no one else in the classroom had so much as moved a finger, let alone raised a hand. Then, from the corner of her eye, she saw Jared stand.

"I do," he said. Kim saw the surprise-and cold fury-in Sister Clarence's eyes as they shifted to Jared.

"Both of you think it's funny to mock the school?"

"It's just a pun," Jared said. "I bet lots of people call it that."

"It is disrespectful, and it will not be tolerated. Is that clear?"

Jared hesitated, then bobbed his head a fraction of an inch. "Yes."

" 'Yes, Sister Clarence,'" the nun corrected him.

Kim could almost feel the anger rising in her brother. Don't, she silently begged. Just let it go!

The quiet in the room stretched out as Jared and the teacher confronted each other.

Everyone waited.

Once again Kim reached out with her mind and begged her brother not to say anything more.

Sister Clarence's eyes behind the steel-rimmed glasses glittered dangerously.

Jared's jaw tightened. Kim saw his lips starting to form words she knew would only dig him in deeper than he already was. Don't, Jared! she pleaded a third time, praying that this time he would pick up her thought and heed it.

Just let it go! The moment seemed to stretch out endlessly, but then, as clearly as if he'd spoken aloud, Kim heard Jared's voice inside her head.

Okay, he said. But I hate this. I really hate it!

A split second later Jared spoke aloud, his voice betraying none of the anger Kim had heard in his unvoiced thought. "Yes, Sister Clarence," he said softly.

Sister Clarence's gaze shifted back to Kim. "I've decided to overlook this, since this is your first day. But in the future such things will not be overlooked. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Sister Clarence," Kim said, her chastened voice little more than a whisper.

Sister Clarence's response stung like the lash of a whip. "Speak up!"

"Yes, Sister Clarence," Kim repeated, her face burning as tears welled in her eyes.

For the rest of the hour, Kim and Jared sat silently at their desks, trying to concentrate on the lesson the nun was teaching. But for both of them, their humiliation kept replaying itself in their minds.

It doesn't matter, Kim finally told herself. It's just different here, and I'll get used to it.

Jared, though, was absolutely sure he'd never get used to it. Never.

Janet Conway climbed down off the ladder, automatically arching her back and stretching first in one direction, then the other. As the ache in her spine and burning knots in her shoulders eased, she surveyed the results of her two hours at the top of the ladder, where she'd twisted herself into contortions to which her body had been mounting increasingly strenuous objections. But already she knew that no matter how much pain she had to put herself through for the next day or two, in the end it would be worth it. Already, light-the clear, clean light of the fall morning-was streaming through the glass roof and the upper third of the conservatory's northern and eastern walls. When she was finished, the room would provide her with the studio that until a few days ago she had only dreamed about. With sunlight coming in from three directions as well as from above, there would never be a time when she wouldn't be able to get exactly the illumination she wanted on her canvas. Just the thought of spending hours here with her paints and brushes, her easel and canvas-bringing to life the visions she'd always seen in her mind-quickened her pulse and made her fairly tingle with excitement and anticipation.