But for whatever reason Mom had decided to ship me back north, I was glad for it, and I smiled as I looked at the ugly wallpaper with yellow roses on it that I vaguely remembered from my childhood. I had thought it was going to be a transfer from one unreasonable jailer to another, but getting to know my dad again had been a pleasant surprise, especially when he actually listened to me when I told him why I had to have one pair of sandals over another. My mom didn’t get my sense of style at all. My dad didn’t, either, but at least he tried.

In all seriousness, I was trying to be good. I hadn’t snuck out of the house in almost a week, apart from the time I had to keep black wings off of Josh. I called when I was going to be late, and I was always here for dinner unless I was pretending to eat at Josh’s house. It would get harder, though, if I were fighting off dark timekeepers and trying to save souls.

“All of you are very quiet,” he said out of nowhere, and I jerked my head up. “School okay today?”

Crap, he wants to talk about school?

“I’m taking home economics,” Nakita offered hesitantly, seeing me almost panicking.

A faint grimace crossed my dad’s face, but he relaxed, putting an elbow on the table. “I hated that class. Do they have you making book bags this year?”

Nakita wedged the wad of pasta off her fork and started to wind up another spool. “Why would a book need a bag?”

“Uh, Nakita and I are taking photography together,” I broke in, trying to distract him from her puzzled expression. For all my dad knew, Nakita was from Nova Scotia and spoke French as her first language. That the school thought she was living at my house was a bit of angel intervention. No one had bothered to check whether she was. Actually, I didn’t know where she went when she left.

Josh ate a bite of bread. “We’ve got physics together,” he said around his food. “Yay.”

I smiled at his lackluster exclamation. “It was great to get back and see everyone,” I said as I wound up another fork of pasta.

My dad smiled knowingly. “This year will be better. Just you watch,” he predicted as he pulled a chunk of bread from the loaf and dipped it in the olive oil and vinegar. “And then college.”

“Can I get through physics first?” I asked with a moan. “At least I’ve got photography this year. That will be fun.”

My dad’s head bobbed. “That reminds me,” he said, glancing over my shoulder at the corkboard by the phone on the wall. “I got a call from your photography teacher with a list of class supplies. Why on earth didn’t she just give it to you when you were at school?”

“Ms. Cartwright?” I asked, feeling a flush of worry, and he nodded. “Um, maybe she didn’t know at the time,” I offered, trying not to lie. Great, I thought as I glanced at Josh, who shrugged.

“Do you need to run out to the mall tonight?” my dad asked, his gaze touching on Nakita’s black fingernails.

“I can take you,” Josh volunteered, clearly seeing a way to get back into the scythe prevention, but my first impulse to say yes died. It would be a great way to slip off my dad’s radar for a couple of hours, but I couldn’t leave until he thought I was in bed.

“Uh, no,” I stammered, and Josh stifled his disappointment. “I’ve probably got most of it upstairs.” I hadn’t seen the list, but I had all my stuff from last year.

“I need a camera,” Nakita said suddenly, her voice worried.

“I’ve got one you can borrow,” I said quickly. “Don’t worry about it, Nakita.”

She wiped her lips with a napkin. “I’ve never used one before. I don’t want to break it.”

Nakita seemed genuinely concerned, and my dad laughed. “If it’s the one I’m thinking of, you can’t.” He put an elbow on the table and leaned in. “Madison used to be really rough on her cameras, but you can’t blame her. She’s been taking pictures since she was four. How long have you been behind the lens?”

Nakita blinked, surprised as she always was when my dad tried to include her in the conversation. My dad liked her, thought the quiet studiousness she showed him would settle me down. But I could probably bring home a biker chick and he’d ask her to stay for dinner, seeing it as proof that I wasn’t moping around upstairs by myself, or avoiding people, like I had been when I first moved up here. That I had two friends over for dinner had probably made his week.

“Not long,” she said, as in never, then added, “I’m not creative. I’m there because Madison thinks it will help me fit in.”

“At a new school,” I blurted.

“I’ll never be able to take pictures like Madison,” Nakita said.

“Yeah,” Josh exclaimed as he wiped the last of his sauce up with a scrap of bread. “Madison takes great pictures.”

“Ah!” my dad exclaimed, making me jump. “Everyone has creativity. You just need to stretch your muscles. Madison’s been at it a long time,” he said, his focus going distant in memory. “She probably doesn’t remember it, but I used to take her with me when I’d go out to remote sites for samples. Her mother gave her a camera to keep her busy.”

“I remember,” I said, wondering if Dad would notice if I switched plates with Josh. I’d tried to throw out the photo albums of corners and clouds almost three years ago, but my mom had rescued them from the trash and hidden them somewhere. “I’ve got my old camera upstairs.” And seeing a way to get out of there, I stood, taking my almost-full plate in hand.

“You’re finished?” my dad exclaimed, looking up at me with a lost expression when Nakita followed my lead. Josh blinked up at us, then snatched a last piece of bread as he stood, too.

Again, guilt hit me, even as I dumped the food and turned on the tap to rinse the plate. My dad had been really great since I’d moved back, making me feel wanted and yet giving me the space I needed. Dying and not being able to tell anyone had seemed to put a bigger wall between us than when we had been separated by a thousand miles.

But I couldn’t dismiss the feeling that he recalled the night I had died. It wasn’t that he ever said anything, but there was a hesitation now where there hadn’t been one before. Barnabas had fixed it so my dad didn’t remember, but I think he did—on some level. And I didn’t want to be alone with him, afraid he was going to bring it up.

Nakita was silent as she threw her food away. Beside her, Josh rinsed his plate off. “I’d better get home,” Josh said, sounding disappointed. I’d love it if he could have come with me back to Fort Banks, but Nakita could carry only one. “I’ve got time to help with the dishes, though,” he added.

“Nakita and I have them okay,” I offered quickly. I sort of owe you, I thought, but I didn’t say it. “You probably want to get home before it rains.”

“I can drive in the rain,” Josh said with a grin.

My dad pushed back and joined us at the sink. “Thanks for coming over, Josh,” he said brightly. “I like having a noisy house and cooking for more than one.”

“Dad…” I complained. “I’m just not hungry.”

He didn’t say anything, eyebrows high. Josh wiped his hands on his jeans, rocking back from the sink as he looked at me, clearly wanting to say something. “I have to get my stuff,” he finally said, then ducked out of the kitchen to leave an uncomfortable silence.

Nakita brought the plate of bread to the sink, hesitating only a moment before reaching for the bag to put it in. “Can we do the dishes later?” I asked my dad. “I want to…” I want to what? I thought in panic. I couldn’t admit I wanted to talk to Josh! My dad might think he was my boyfriend or something. I mean, he sort of was, but it wasn’t like we’d even kissed or anything. Yet.

“Go, go, go,” he said, making a shooing motion. “I’ll clean up. You go talk to Josh.”

Nakita was scowling. She didn’t like Josh much. I, though, was delighted, and I spun around, wiping my hands on the drying towel. “Thanks, Dad!”