“I love you, and I’ll be home as soon as I can,” Will said, and hung up before his mom had a chance to respond.

“She’s just going to call back,” I pointed out, unable to resist.

He pushed the button to turn the ringer off and held the phone up to show me the volume symbol with the line through it. “Satisfied?”

“Yeah, actually,” I said, seeing him through new eyes. Who was this guy, this new assertive version of Will? And why did he have to show up just as I was leaving?

Edmund Harris’s parents lived on a quiet street in a middle-class neighborhood on the north side of Peoria. At seven thirty, the sun was setting, but kids were still out playing in the yards, occasionally chasing balls, dogs, and one another into the street. I slowed down, ignoring the urge to hurry to the Harris driveway. If we were this close, a few more seconds weren’t going to matter.

At least, I hoped not.

I glanced out the window to check house numbers again—we were looking for 1414 and were currently passing 1398—and noticed Alona watching me again. She had her head tipped to one side, blond hair tumbling down over her arm, and she was studying me.

“What?” I asked, resisting the urge to wipe my face.

She shook her head, as if waking herself from a zone-out. “Nothing,” she said quickly, but her cheeks were pinker than normal.

I frowned. “Uh-huh.”

She lifted her chin with a haughty sniff. “I was trying to figure out why my presence hasn’t influenced you more, particularly your wardrobe.”

In spite of myself, I looked down at my dark jeans and T-shirt. “My shirt is gray,” I pointed out. “You’ve expanded my fashion horizons dramatically. I wear three colors now.”

She rolled her eyes, but I caught a glimpse of a smile before she looked away. Nice. In spite of everything, I still liked making her smile. It didn’t happen all that often.

“Hey.” I sat up straighter behind the wheel, staring at a house down the street on the right. I nudged her shoulder. “That has to be it.” I pointed to the perfectly ordinary two-story red house, my heart beating a little faster.

“It doesn’t look like the family home of a criminal mastermind,” Alona said. “Not nearly lair-y enough. And where is the moat?”

“Funny,” I said. But I knew I was right. An all-too familiar battered van sat in the driveway. “He’s here.” I nodded toward the vehicle as we approached, and I slowed down.

“No,” Alona said sharply. “Don’t stop.”

“What?”

“Do you actually pay attention to any of the movies you watch?” She gave me an exasperated look. “We don’t want to spook him.”

“You would be the expert on that,” I muttered.

She stuck her tongue out at me. “Ha-ha. Keep going,” she said.

And much as I didn’t like to admit it, she probably had a point. The subtle approach was definitely better with this guy.

I drove past the house, which was dark with no signs of life, and pulled to the curb about four houses down, where the street curved and would partially hide us from view.

“We still have to walk to the front door,” I said, unbuckling my seat belt, “unless you’re planning some kind of ninja stealth attack.” I opened the door and got out.

She slid out after me, shaking her head. “Don’t be ridiculous. We don’t have to sneak up to the house. It was the car that would have attracted attention.” Alona stood and stretched her arms over her head, and I could have sworn I heard her joints pop. “Think about it. You notice when someone pulls into your driveway. But do you pay attention to people out walking around? No,” she answered for me. “Especially not here.” She nodded to the residents walking their dogs, chasing their kids, and watering their lawns.

She was right again. I raised my eyebrows at her in question.

“I spent years hiding my mom from people,” she said with a shrug. “The only ones who ever caught me by surprise were the neighbors when they walked over.”

Once again I felt a twinge of sympathy for her for the life she’d lived before. No wonder she was so concerned about the Turners. They’d actually been concerned about her in return. Well, what they knew of her.

I felt the last of my anger toward her evaporate. Yes, she’d lied about the light, but lying to protect herself was her primary defense mechanism. Should it have surprised me, then, that in a moment of fear and confusion she’d exaggerated to make sure things worked out to her benefit? And she was trying to change, trying to trust. That was huge for her.

She also maybe had a point in that it had been a little naive of me to assume that she’d been given specific instructions. Nothing about the afterlife, or at least my experience with it, worked quite that precisely. The only thing that seemed to have any definitive impact in the in-between place was action. Certain things a spirit did or said to get closure or resolution would bring the light. Being nasty would—eventually, depending on the spirit’s strength—make you gone.

So…if the light hadn’t wanted Alona to be Ally, perceiving it as a selfish move, maybe she would have disappeared already? She would have just depleted her energy and vanished, leaving Lily’s body as it had been before.

Maybe.

Except Erin was currently holding that position, without, as far as I knew, any ill effects. And the light surely couldn’t have intended for Erin to do what she did, right?

My head hurt just thinking about it. And somewhere in this whole debate, there had to be an element of that free-will thing, points for making the unselfish choice or something, but was it the selfish or unselfish choice for Alona to be Ally? I didn’t know. I couldn’t figure out how the system worked. And maybe that was the point. If you aren’t sure how it works, it’s a lot harder to game it. Okay, maybe. But it made me long for the days when I’d thought it operated as my dad had first told me. Simple. Exact. Which, in retrospect, struck me as the kind of explanation you gave a little kid when you weren’t capable of or didn’t want to give amore detailed and accurate answer. You know, thunder is just two clouds bumping into each other, and that sort of thing.

“Hello?” Alona waved a hand in front of my face. “What’s the plan?”

I slammed my door and put aside the deep philosophical ponderings to consider her question, which was far more relevant to the moment.

If Edmund had actually been able to see ghosts, it might have been easier to send Alona ahead through the walls for the element of surprise. But since he couldn’t, I wasn’t sure that ringing the doorbell wouldn’t be equally effective.

After a moment, I shrugged. “We see if he’s home and try to talk to him.” Actually, more like plead with him to help us, but I couldn’t see any point in being that specific with Alona right now. Maybe it wouldn’t come to that.

I started down the street, and she followed.

“That’s it?” she asked, when she caught up, skepticism heavy in her voice.

“What were youthinking? Hot pokers and broken glass?” I moved to the edge of the sidewalk, forcing Alona into the grass, to let a neighbor with schnauzer pass. He stared at me, the crazy unknown guy in his neighborhood talking to himself. I forced a smile and nodded at him. Whatever, dude. You can think what you like.

“We’re not trying to break him. We want his help,” I whispered to Alona, once the schnauzer guy had passed and we’d moved back to the center of the sidewalk.

“If everything you said is true, I think we might have better luck with the pokers and glass,” she said grimly. “He doesn’t want his sister back. And if we can find her and kick her out of Lily, that’s exactly what will happen. She’ll end up right back at his side.”

I shook my head. “I think it’s more complicated than that. If he wanted her gone, all he had to do was have my dad call in the Order. But he didn’t. And when he thought I was one of them, he was packing up and leaving town to protect her.” I hesitated, going more from a gut sense than from anything Edmund or Erin had said to me. “There’s more to it, whatever happened between them.” Which was going to make dealing with them much trickier.