Finally I got to the pictures I’d tried to take of the strange light. The image was slightly shaky, thanks to my inability to stand completely still, but there was definitely something there. And the motion blur even helped a little.

Hmm.

I leaned in for another look, and noticed a little white dot in the frame—a circle of light that seemed to be floating near the house.

I’d cleaned my lens- right before I went outside, but a spot of dust could have snuck in.

Well, it was a good picture anyway, and I could fix that white dot if I enlarged it.

The last couple of photos, the ones close to the end of the reel, were actually ruined. One picture was half clear and half overexposed—you could just see the bay window in the study and part of Kasey’s bedroom window before it faded to bright white. The mysterious glow near the tree was just barely distinguishable from the light leak. And of course, that was the only one where I’d managed to hold still enough that the picture wasn’t blurred.

I studied the blob of light. In this particular frame I could see that it wasn’t completely shapeless. It was oblong, and had stripes down the sides, and toward the top it got a little narrower and then rounded back out.

It actually kind of looked like a really vague silhouette of a person.

But that was impossible. Not only impossible, but silly too. If you stare at anything long enough, you can make yourself see whatever you want to see.

And there was a dust speck on this one too, but it looked even bigger. You could see it clearly—a little sphere of light, smack in the middle of the frame.

Well, you can’t win ‘em all.

At least I’d managed to get a few eerie portraits of the house. Not bad for a roll that should have gone to the great darkroom in the sky.

10

I was on my way back to my room when I heard a noise from downstairs.

Shuffle shuffle shuffle shuffle.

It stopped abruptly.

Gophers. The pipes. The house settling.

As I turned toward my door I glanced back at Kasey’s room. For the first time I noticed a tiny bit of light shining through a crack. Her door was open. Only slightly, though. I craned my neck to see if I could see her outline under the covers. I couldn’t tell, so I turned back around.

She was behind me.

I gave a little shriek and did that really embarrassing terrified hand-wringing thing.

Kasey just looked at me, completely calm.

It took me a second to catch my breath. “What are you doing?”

“Getting a drink of water.”

“How did you get up the stairs without making any noise?”

She looked at me like I had a screw loose. “Socks,” she said. She lifted her foot to show me. The underside was covered in a black coating of dirt, in the shape of a foot.

“Those are filthy,” I said.

Something occurred to me.

“Did you just go outside?”

Kasey looked puzzled. “Why would you think that?” “I just…heard—thought I heard…” I shrugged. “Lexi, are you feeling okay?” She studied me intently. “I’m fine,” I said.

“Okay, because last night you got a little”—she considered carefully—“overexcited.”

I couldn’t keep my cool any longer. “Well, maybe if I hadn’t had to follow you into the basement and then cook for you and do your homework and have you ruin my pictures—”

“Oh,” she said. “Are they ruined?”

There was no regret in her voice, only mild curiosity.

“No,” I replied. “Lucky for you.” “Sorry,” she said, her eyes wandering up to the ceiling. “But you were acting really weird. It distracted me.” Was I acting weird?

The story, the tree, the basement door, the cold air…all things that, in the light of early morning, seemed a lot more explainable than they had last night. Maybe a little weird.

“See you later,” Kasey said, padding away down the hall.

“Oh,” I said. “Wait.”

She stopped and turned around.

“Do you need any more help with your report?”

She shrugged. “It’s cool. I finished it last night.”

Oh. “Good for you,” I said. “Can I see it?”

“Um, no…not right now,” she said. “It’s six thirty.”

I nodded. “Right.”

I hurried through my shower and getting dressed. For some reason I was highly disinterested in seeing my sister again that morning.

All this time I’d thought Kasey was kind of on the verge of something, and suddenly it hit me that what if, you know, it wasn’t her? What if it was me? Can you go crazy without knowing you’re crazy?

I mean, most crazy people do, right?

See, times like these make you really wish you had a best friend. Someone you could go to and be like, “Am I nuts, or…?” and they would just tell you flat-out.

It was way too much to think about at seven fifteen, without even a Pop-Tart in my stomach.

Mom was in the kitchen already, watching her coffee brew. She leaned against the counter, mesmerized.

She didn’t look up when I came in, which was totally okay by me. I got a glass of juice, stuck my Pop-Tart in the toaster, and dropped a plate onto the counter with a clatter. Then I had to stop and wait, and the kitchen was quiet except for the electric buzz from the toaster and the soft, rhythmic bubbling of the coffee machine.

“Thanks for doing the dishes.”

I looked up in surprise to see Mom staring at me.

“And helping Kasey with her schoolwork,” she said.

I shrugged.

“I wasn’t going to say anything, but I have a huge interview on Friday. For a vice presidency. But if I don’t get the job…” She shook her head. “I’m so tired, Alexis. I want to be more involved with you girls.”

My head swam. “Yeah, but…what would you do, quit?”

She stared at the coffeepot.

“Then how would we afford…?” I let my voice trail off. Somehow it didn’t seem to be the right thing to say. I laid my palm flat against the counter. “Does Dad know?”

“No,” she said. “I guess I have to talk to him about it.”

“Will you tell Kasey?” “Tell me what?”

We both jumped at the sound of Kasey’s voice. She stood in the doorway of the kitchen, clutching her report.

Mom took a deep breath. “Don’t worry, Kase. Right now I think it should be between your father and I.”

“And me.”

“Yes, and you and Alexis too, and we’ll talk about it as a family if it becomes an issue. I promise.”

“No,” Kasey said. “Your grammar is wrong. ‘Between your father and me.’” She walked to the sink and filled a glass of water. After drinking the whole thing in one long series of glugs, she set the glass down on the counter and looked at Mom, who had frozen in place. “Just my opinion, but I don’t think you’d make a great housewife.” She glanced down at her watch. “I have to go. I’ll walk.”

She turned and left.

Mom stood speechlessly by the counter, staring at the spot where Kasey had been.

All of the temporary closeness between Mom and me escaped out the front door with Kasey, making everything suddenly seem wrong, embarrassing. I reached over and flipped the toaster switch up, grabbing my half-cooked Pop-Tart out of its slot. I dropped it on my plate and walked out without another word.

11

I wanted to finish up at my locker before Lydia arrived to pick another fight with the cheerleaders. After the past twelve hours, I couldn’t handle any more drama.

So when a shadow fell over me as I searched for my copy of Their Eyes Were Watching God, I braced myself.

“Good morning,” said Carter Blume.

My math textbook slipped out of my arm and landed on his foot with a painful-sounding thud.

The cheerleaders tittered.

Carter picked up the book and handed it back to me, an amused smile on his face. “Sorry,” I murmured.

“Eye for an eye, right?” he asked. “Foot for a forehead? No problem.”

“Look,” I said. “I just kind of want to be alone.”