The 39 Clues Rapid Fire 4 - Crushed

7/30/2019 The 39 Clues Rapid Fire 4 - Crushed

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UNLOCK A TOP SECRET FILEABOUT THE CAHILLS DEADLIEST

ENEMY

THE VESPERS!

1. The seven Rapid Fire storieseach contain a fragment of acode. Collect the fragmentsin order to assemble acomplete ten-digit code.

2. Go towww.the39clues.com.

3. Click on My Cards.
http://the39clues.com/http://the39clues.com/


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4. Enter the ten-digit RapidFire code to unlock a digitalcard and Top Secret Vesperfile!

The code fragment for this story is:

RAre you ready to save the

world?


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ContentsTitle PageCodeCrushedCopyright
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Seven Months After the Clue Hunt

Ian Kabra looked in the mirror, cleared histhroat, and bared his soul.

Amy, he began. And paused. Amy.Amy, I have to I have to tell you that . . .He stopped, rubbed his face, and pushed hisshoulders back. Amy Cahill, I find youinteresting.

No, it wasnt that she was just interest-ing. She was . . . something.


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There were so many things wrong withher so many things that he shouldnt likeabout her. She was richer than he was thesedays, and yet she still acted so poor. And fartoo many of her clothes were made of cotton,rather than silk.

But he found that he almost didnt care.He looked back at the mirror. I know its

completely ridiculous, but I cant keep quietabout it any longer. Your closet looks like itwas put together by a blind nun, and yourbrother acts like a cross between a monkey

and a go-kart, and you have the social skillsof a rock. But I like you, Amy. Quite quitea bit. He paused. So, congratulations.

His bedroom door swung open, andNatalie stood in the door frame. Ian jumped

back from the mirror, but he couldnt meethis sisters eye.

Really? she asked, putting her handson her hips. Really, Ian?


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What? he asked, lifting his shouldersas if there were nothing in the world strangeabout giving a speech to ones mirror beforetraveling internationally to declare ones af-fection to a former nemesis. He scratchedthe back of his head. All right, it was strange.And made worse by being caught by his littlesister. But he was sixteen years old, and a

Kabra shouldnt he be better at this?Shouldnt he know the exact words to saythat would make Amy Cahill realize what hemeant? That he liked her, regardless of cer-

tain extraneous factors.You really think shes going to fall forthat? asked Natalie. You might as well notgo.

Ian sighed. There was nothing normal

about being a Kabra from the mansion tothe private jets to the private dinners withthe Queen but there seemed to besomething universal about the way little sis-

ters could be such pests.


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Im going, Natalie, said Ian. Wevetalked about this before.

Fine. Go and make a fool of yourself,Natalie said, shrugging.

Why dont you go shop for a private is-land or something? he snapped.

Natalies eyes widened, and her mouthdropped open. You know I cant. Why

would you say something so mean? shegasped. She turned and fled down the hall,leaving Ian to look between the hall and themirror.

He was going to America. He was goingto tell Amy Cahill how he felt. He hadnt be-fore because he thought there was no waythose feelings would last. But they had. Itwas pathetic, he knew that. And it was

entirely un-Kabra-like. Natalies reaction wasproof enough of that. Still, there was nopoint in keeping the news from Amy. Shedbe thrilled, and she needed some good news

in her life.


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Ian left his room and wandered downthe Kabra mansions lofty and well-decor-ated halls. Brilliant chandeliers hung fromthe ceiling, the light reflecting off of thehighly polished wood floors. Masterpieces byfamous relatives Van Gogh, Picasso, De-gas, and Rembrandt to name only a few hung on the walls. Ian and Natalie had prac-

tically grown up in a museum, but ratherthan being intimidated by their home, theyreveled in it. There was no tiptoeing aroundthese works of art. They not only owned

these things; they deserved them.Or at least, they had. Ian wasnt so surehow things worked anymore.

He found Natalie watching television inthe theater. Ian joined her, sinking down in-

to one of the plush velvet chairs. The butlerwas in his usual tailcoat, making popcorn inthe corner.


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Bickerduff, said Ian, well be packinglater tonight. Im going to America in a fewdays.

Very good, sir, said Bickerduff, bring-ing the popcorn to the two Kabras.

Natalie threw a look at her brother thatwould have withered a lesser man. Like Isaid, youd better get a better speech, or I

wouldnt even bother.Ian ignored her. Just because she had

her opinions didnt mean that they werecorrect.

Natalie didnt like being ignored. Shesnatched up the remote and jabbed at thebuttons. The channels on the wall-sizedscreen flashed from station to station.

More Weetabix

Doctor!Isabel Kabra Downton Wait, go back, Ian cried. Natalie

flipped back to BBC1, where their mothers


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face was spread across the massive screen.The Kabras leaned forward; Ians heart rateticked upward, as if he were being chased.

Known to many as a fashionable fixturein the philanthropic and art scenes, IsabelKabra shocked the world when she was ar-rested last year for the murder of AmericansHope Cahill and Arthur Trent. Now weve re-

ceived reports that Mrs. Kabra has been re-leased from the custody of her Americanprison and will be serving out her parole byheading AidWorks Wonders, a charitable or-

ganization. The conditions of Mrs. Kabrasparole will limit her movements to Boston,the same region where she committedmurder eight years ago.

Natalie turned the television off, and the

Kabras sat quietly for a moment, letting therealization sink in: Their mother was out ofjail. Ian went cold, and goose bumps poppedup on his arms and neck.


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Just six months ago, there was little IanKabra wouldnt do to gain an edge in thehunt for the 39 Clues: the quest for the secretthat would make the finder the most power-ful person in the world. The contest hadtaken the participants, which included Ianand Natalie and Amy and Dan Cahill, to thefarthest corners of the globe and had nearly

killed them all on multiple occasions.Isabel had wanted that ultimate power,

and shed done despicable things in her ef-fort to find the Clues and to win. Shed

murdered Amy and Dans parents; shed shotNatalie, her own daughter, in the foot. Shedshother. Ian knew his mother better than al-most anyone else could, and even he hadtrouble believing it had actually happened.

But the scar on Natalies foot, and the wayshe curled it under herself as if to protect it,didnt lie.

Isabel had expected the Kabras to be the

first to find the Clues. She had trained Ian


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and Natalie since birth to be the ruthlessstars of the Cahill family. And at first, Ianhad enjoyed it. The Clue hunt was the ulti-mate test of wits and daring, and there waslittle Kabras liked better than proving theirsuperiority.

But the quest had been more heartlessthan even Ian had expected. With so much at

stake, the competitors had started to seeeach other merely as obstacles, rather thanreal human beings. Ian and Natalie had beenexpected to do the same, and theyd seen a

side of their mother that no one else in theworld should ever have to. Shed almostturned them into killers. And while Ianwasnt necessarily a do-gooder or a saint, heknew that he wasnt a murderer.

It had taken them time growing aconscience from scratch is hard going buteven Ian and Natalie could see that no prizewas worth killing for. So they had, together

with their other cousins, given their Clues to


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Amy and Dan Cahill. Amy and Dan were justkids themselves, but they were the only oneswho could be trusted with such power. Thosetwo Cahills didnt have ulterior motives; theydidnt want to rule the world. Ian suspectedthey had only kept with the hunt to stop any-one else from winning and then using theirpower for evil. And to make their late grand-

mother proud, which was so Cahillish thatIan almost couldnt stand it.

Isabel had been furious with her chil-dren. She and their father had disowned

them at the end of the hunt. It was a nastybusiness, all of it, and Ian found himselfshivering at the memory. It wasnt normal tofeel this way about ones mother. But he verymuch doubted that there were other mothers

in the world like Isabel Kabra.Sir, said Bickerduff, interrupting Ians

panicked thoughts. Your luggage has beensent to your room.

Why? asked Ian.


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For your trip to America, sir.Of course. He would be going to Amer-

ica to the same place where his motherwould be, to the same place where Amy andDan would be. Two Cahills and two Kabrasin Boston. If Amy knew that Isabel was free,she might not want to see him. But whywould it matter if Isabel were free or not?

Ian was still the son of the woman whomurdered Amys parents. His stomach sankdeep down inside of him. The Kabra charmwas an impressive thing, but even Ian wasnt

sure it could overcome a murder conviction.Bickerduff, I dont think Im going togo.

Of course, sir, said the butler.Natalie stood up from her seat and fol-

ded her arms across her chest, almost as ifshe were hugging herself. You dont supposewell get our allowance back? she asked.

Is that really what youre thinking? he

asked. Though, now that she mentioned it,


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he really wouldnt mind being put back intothe Kabra good graces. Before the Clue hunt,Ian and Natalie had never wanted for any-thing, but now that they had proven to besuch disappointments, they were quite im-poverished. As co-winners of the Clue hunt,theyd been given a measly two million each,but he had a feeling that Natalie had been

dipping into his share. Ian hadnt beenraised as a Kabra for nothing, though. Hedhad the family stockbrokers phone numbermemorized since childhood and he was par-

laying two million into something far morerespectable. Not that he was going to tell thatto Natalie any time soon.

And what are you thinking of? How sadAmy Cahill is going to be? asked Natalie.

Ian paused. She would be sad to see Isa-bel out of jail. And shed need someone tohelp her someone more mature than herbrother or that babysitter, Nellie. Shed need

him to help her. If Ian found himself in


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trouble, hed certainly appreciate havingsomeone as suave and confident as himselfto be there in support.

Bickerduff appeared in the door again.Sir, your luggage has been returned to thebox room.

Why? asked Ian. I need to pack. Imgoing to America soon! Fetch it, Bickerduff;

well pack this evening.Very good, sir, said Bickerduff, turning

and walking out again.You know shes not going to want to see

you, said Natalie. Our mother is the one . ..Dont say it, he said. But Natalie was

right. His mothers release put a kink into hisplans. Maybe Amy would think he was spy-

ing for his mother or in league with her but it wouldnt be like that at all. Amy wouldknow that, right? She knew what he haddone what he had given up at the end of

the Clue hunt.


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Someone should say it, said Natalie.She shifted in her chair. Its what Im reallythinking of. Sometimes, I wonder what itwould be like if she hadnt gone to jail. If shehadnt hadnt set that fire.

Natalie, stop. Stop that. Theyshouldnt talk about it. Talking about it madeit real, highlighted the horridness of the

whole thing. If they kept on as things were,they could just pretend that their parentswere off chasing down some piece of art, orsailing along some string of tropical islands.

No, Im just saying that sometimes Iwonder. Sometimes I wonder what it wouldbe like if shed been the kind of mother whohad taken me to ballet and who had cheeredat polo matches and hadnt, maybe, been the

kind that expected . . . so much. Frompeople.

The Kabras fell quiet. Ian wouldnt ad-mit that he felt the same, sometimes. Only

sometimes. A lot of the time.


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Just sometimes I miss her. Sometimes,I wish she had been different.

Then . . . , said Ian. But then youwouldnt be you.

I dont like me all the time, saidNatalie.

I dont like me all the time, either, hesaid. A quietness settled over the Kabras. A

Kabra not liking him or herself, not thinkingthat all the stars had aligned to bring them tothe brink of greatness, was unheard of. But,Ian thought, it was true.

Bickerduff! Ian called again.Yes, sir, said the butler.Im not going, said Ian. Cancel my

flight.Very good, sir, said Bickerduff. The

butler almost made it out of the room thattime.

No, wait, said Ian. He didnt knowwhat to think, about his mother or Natalie or

himself half the time, but he knew a few


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things, at least. Firstly, he wanted to go toBoston. And secondly, he was a Kabra, andKabras got what they wanted. Bickerduff,fetch my dinner jacket. If he was going to dothis, he was going to do this right.

Amy Cahill was living in a madhouse.Why had she never realized this before?

The signs had been there the running in

the halls, the abundance of junk food, thecrazy brother. But it was only at that mo-ment, armed with a trash bag, that she real-ized just how far they had fallen. Anthropo-logists could come study her living room tolearn about what the world would look likeafter the demise of modern civilization.

Dan! she yelled. Why are your dirtysocks in a bag of chips?!


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They arent! Dan hollered back, run-ning into the room. He had a plasticlightsaber in one hand and a dustpan in theother.

Dan, Im holding the proof in my handsright now, Amy said. She pulled thecrumpled socks out of the chip bag, holdingthem between her forefinger and thumb.

Boys were so gross.Thats not a bag of chips, Dan said,

poking at the bag of Doritos with hislightsaber. Thats an emptybag of chips.

Its still gross, she said.Just then, Atticus came running into theroom. He held a mop and had a bath towelknotted around his neck. Amy was glad tohave Atticus visiting he was Dans friend,

and Dan needed all the friends he could get.Hed been so changed after the Clue hunt,like he didnt know what to do with himselfanymore. Having Atticus around gave him

someone to entertain, someone to be himself


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around. Plus, Atticus was a genius, whichmade him incredibly interesting to talk to.

Still, there was a line. She could bepleased that Dan had a friend. She could beequally displeased at dirty socks in bags ofchips.

Calceum amissum dabo ultionemmeam!Atticus roared, coming at Dan with

the mop.No way, dude! yelled Dan, leaping

backward and lifting his dustpan like ashield.

Dan, said Amy, shaking her trash bagat him. Are you going to help at all?Why are you cleaning in the first

place? Dan asked.Because we have company coming,

she said. Im throwing out this bottlerocket.

No, wait! Dan said, reaching for it. Ithasnt been set off yet. Dont waste it, Amy.

And we dont have company coming we


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have Ian Kabra coming. And I know youwant to totally impress him and take him tothe movies and stare dreamily into his eyes

I do not, Amy said, too quickly.Oh, Ian, Dan said, pressing his

lightsaber to his chest and batting his eyes.Tell me again about your shiny, shiny

shoes.Youre such a dweeb, said Amy, pitch-

ing the empty bag of chips into the trash bag.Something about the scene in her living

room struck her as strange and then sherealized why: It felt normal. Entirely normal.Right then, she was just a big sister, yellingat her little brother because he was a mess.Was this how the rest of the girls at school

spent their time? When Amy had signed her-self and Dan up for the Clue hunt, she hadntknown how much her life would change. Be-fore, she had just been a normal eighth

grader with an annoying kid brother. But


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since the Clue hunt began, her life had beenfull of foreign countries and near-death ex-periences being lost in the catacombs inParis, flying to the top of Mount Everest, sur-viving that final gauntlet.

And now, at sixteen, she found herselfwealthier than she knew any person in theworld could be, and in possession of the key

to the Cahill familys ultimate power. Her lifewas, to be blunt about it, insane.

Ians visit was just another example ofthat insanity. He was rich and cultured and .

. . ridiculous in a charming, interesting way.He wasnt like any of the other boys at Amysschool.

Like a magnet, the thought of schoolzapped Amys thoughts toward one boy in

particular. On the list of boys that Amywanted to clean her living room for, EvanTolliver was right at the top. The thought ofhim made her ears go hot, which probably

meant they were bright pink, too. It was a


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strange thing, to be excited about one boycoming to visit while blushing over another.

Ego regis spatium exterum cedo!Not if I have anything to say about it,

dastardly fiend!Dont jump onto the ceiling fan! Amy

yelled.Honestly, what was the point of being

the leader of the most powerful family in theworld if you couldnt even get your littlebrother to behave like a human being?

Dinnertime at the Kabra mansion had neverbeen a particularly cozy affair. It was hard tohave a family dinner when the table was aslong as a swimming pool and the waterglasses were made of real crystal.

Still, the night before Ian flew to visit

the Cahills was the stoniest he could


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remember. Natalie sat silent and icy. Everyclink of her fork against the china reverber-ated through the room like a gong.

Ian couldnt take it anymore. Nataliehad been fuming ever since Ian had told herhe would be going to see Amy. Natalie, hebegan, but she cut him off before he couldget any further.

I cant believe youre going, shesnapped. I honestly cant believe that youare going to Boston to see the Cahills andthat you are leaving me here alone. What am

I supposed to do if she . . . if she . . .Natalies face screwed up like she was tryingto shove an awful thought into the back ofher brain. What if she comes here and itsjust me? Didnt you think of that? Didnt you

think of me at all?Ian paused, and when he opened his

mouth, he spoke slowly. She cant . . . shecant leave America, Natalie. That would go


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against her parole. Ive made sure. Ichecked.

Oh, right, because shes clearly so goodat obeying the law, said Natalie. She pushedher plate away. If you go, and if she comeshere, Ill never forgive you. She stood upand stomped out of the dining room, slam-ming the door hard enough to make the

Waterford chandelier rattle on its chain.Ian looked down at his plate. The filet

with barnaise sauce and fingerling potatoeshad been prepared by a classically trained

chef, and yet it tasted like sawdust to him.He felt a creeping, distasteful thing sneak upon him sympathy. Those wretched Cahills.Theyd changed him over the course of theClue hunt, and now their unwanted effect

lingered. Having a conscience was such anuisance.

Hed have to make up with Natalie be-fore he left. He didnt blame her at all for be-

ing nervous about Isabel leaving prison. He


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was nervous, too, and he wasnt even the onetheir mother had shot.

Ian picked his napkin out of his lap andfollowed Natalie out of the dining room.

Natalie? he called down the hall. Butshe wasnt there. And she wasnt in the gal-lery or in the theater or in the kitchen or thelibrary. She wasnt in the conservatory or the

study or her bedroom.He was on his way to the parlor, passing

the door to the secret wing of the mansion the Lucian wing when he heard the sound

of shattering glass. Natalie? he said, put-ting a hand on the door. The knob was cool,and it twisted easily when he turned it. Hestood there for a moment, looking at theknob. He couldnt imagine that Natalie

would go in there. Theyd had an unspokenagreement to avoid it since the Clue huntended avoid looking at it, talking about it.

But someonewas in there. So Ian

opened the door.


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As soon as the door opened, a flood oflights streamed on one by one down theshort hall as the chandeliers lit up. The floorwas paneled in ebony wood, and the wallswere lined with paintings of Lucians doingamazing things being crowned, winningbattles, ruling the world. It smelled of closeair and dust; not even the servants had been

inside. Ian felt as if he were trespassing,breaking the rules, even though that was ri-diculous. This was his house, and with hisfather hiding in South America and his

mother trapped in North America, there wasno one present to scold or forbid him.Slowly, he made his way down the hall.

Natalie? he called again. But there was noanswer.

At the end of the short hall was anotherdoor. He opened that one, to another hall. Ithad never occurred to him before howstrange a setup this was. It was as if the wing

were designed to be difficult to transverse


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a series of rooms to be passed through, oneby one, to reach an end destination, ratherthan one long corridor with doors alongeither side. Down at the end of the secondhall, someone turned to look at him.

Someone tall, and someone who was notNatalie. The figure was all in black, fromboots to mask. He couldnt tell for sure, but

he was certain that the intruder smiled athim.

Oi! Stop! he yelled, taking off downthe hall. The lights began to flicker, and the

chandelier closest to his end of the hallwaygave a shudder and then crashed to theground, landing a few feet from Ian. Glassand metal shattered over the wood floors,spraying Ian with shards and splinters. If he

had been any slower, hed be buried underthat mess, tangled in it like a grotesque knotin a skein of thread.

He half jumped, half skidded over the

shattered chandelier and picked his way


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down the rest of the hall. But with a greatgroan, the second chandelier fell. Ian jumpedout of the way, and continued his run downthe hall, dodging the third and fourth chan-deliers as their chains gave way and theyslammed down to the floor.

Ian looked up at the last broken chain. Acable ran from the chain, along the ceiling, to

the previous chandelier, and so on, until thecable reached the door. Something hadtriggered it; something had caused it to crash the door opening. Someone had rigged the

chandeliers to fall.His spirit sagged down to his knees,dragging what felt like his lungs and all of hisdigestive organs with it. One of his parentshad done that. Mother or Father, one of

them both of them would rather haveNatalie or himself be crushed by half a ton ofglass and metal than have them make itthrough the wing and into the Lucian

stronghold.


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But there wasnt time to dwell on it.There was someone in the house, in thiswing, and they needed to be caught.

Ian shook glass from his hair. The in-truder had disappeared by the time he madeit past the chandeliers. He barged throughthe next door.

It was the room made entirely of mir-

rors. Ian thought that Isabel had had it builtbecause she liked to look at herself. Now heknew better.

A single lamp hung from the center of

the mirrored room. And then, there wasmovement. The figure in black was there,though he couldnt tell where. He jumped atthe reflection to his left, spun around to theone on his right. It was dark and the shadows

tricked him; Ian could feel his heart pound-ing in his chest and his breath coming inquick bursts.

The intruders image was cast all around

him, but Ian couldnt tell which was the real


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person and which ones were reflections. Theintruder was scrambling at one of the mir-rors, clawing at the side of it as if trying tofind a latch.

Who are you? he demanded. The fig-ure in black spun around to look at Ian, andIan finally thought he knew which way to go.He saw something that sparkled dangling

from the intruders hand a piece of jew-elry? Glass? But then the intruder grabbed athick bar from his trouser leg a pipe or acrowbar, Ian couldnt tell. He hesitated and

stepped back, thinking he was about to beclubbed. But the intruder raised the bar andsmashed the mirror. On the other side was awindow that faced the garden. That wasquickly smashed as well, and the intruder

clambered outside.Ian ran over, reaching out to try and

grab a leg, an arm, something. They were onthe top floor, and the intruder had already

scampered up onto the roof.


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There was no time to consider the three-story fall from the roof, or the fact that theintruder was apparently armed with at leasta crowbar, or that Ian was supposed to be ona plane to America in a few hours. Iangrasped the window frame, put a foot on theledge, and hoisted himself outside.

The night was cold for April, and it was

much windier high up than it would havebeen on the ground. Ians heart climbed rap-idly to his throat when he realized what hewas doing, but there wasnt any other way.

By the time he found Bickerduff and had thepolice summoned, the intruder would begone.

And if there was anything more import-ant than catching them, it was knowing who

they were. Anyone who was brave or foolishor desperate enough to break into the Lucianstronghold needed to be stopped.

Shifting his weight, Ian swung around

and grabbed the gutter above him. It was


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slimy with rain, leaves, and grime, and thefirst realization that he could slip and fall hithim. But he bent his knees anyway, firmedup his grip, and jumped.

With a grunt, he swung one leg up abovethe gutter. He forced his weight into hisstomach, pressing hard against the slick tiles.The figure in black was still trying to climb

up the steeply pitched roof, and now that heheard Ian heaving himself upward, hescrambled all the harder.

He dug his fingers into the tiles, pulling

his other leg up, and then he let himself havea moment to remember that he was stillalive. But there was only time for a moment,and he was digging the toes of his Pradashoes into the roof to brace himself, to push

higher and harder.The wind whipped his hair into his eyes

as he flung an arm out as far as he could totry and grab the intruders trouser leg. He

brushed the fabric with his fingers, but the


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person in black kicked at him. Ian took it inthe shoulder, and he lost his grip. The move-ment caused the intruder to lose balance aswell, and they both began to slide.

The tiles were too slippery to stop him;his sweater caught but it just tore beneathhim. He tried to grab at something, but hishands couldnt grasp anything at all. His toes

hit the gutter, which jolted under the impact.The intruder landed beside him. Ian tried tograb a black-garbed arm, but the guttergroaned again, and snapped.

They continued to fall. Ian grasped thegutter like a climbing rope, his clothes scrap-ing down the side of the stone faade. Hewould have kept swinging likely until thegutter broke completely free of the roof

but there was a tree growing close to thehouse and he got tangled up in the branches.The intruder skidded across the wall in thesame way, but ended up near a downspout.


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He jumped over to it like a squirrel andbegan to skitter down to the gardens.

Ian kicked at the tree, trying to find abranch thick enough to stand on. Hedchased him that far hed not let him justget away now. He let go of the gutter withone hand and grabbed at a mess of sticks andleaves, hoping they would hold him as he

pulled himself as quickly as possible into thetree.

Branches whipped at him as hescrambled down he was going to look an

awful mess whenever he caught up to thisintruder.There was movement beneath him, and

Ian jumped, rolling into the person in black.They both toppled over, but both were soon

back up on hands and knees. Ian lunged,grabbed a foot, and pulled. The person inblack went down flat on his stomach. Iansnatched at the mask and ripped it off. And

then he flung himself backward.


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Isabel smiled at him and pushed herhair back from her face.

Ian felt as if he had been doused in icewater. His mother was there. There, in frontof him. Isabel picked herself up from theground and smoothed her black clothes withher hands. He shivered; his skin prickled upand down his back, and the first twinges of a

headache crept over his brain.Both sets of amber eyes flickered to the

garden gate. It was old, made of damp,weathered wood and great iron bolts. The

wall around the garden was a good ten feethigh. There would be one way out. One littledoor stood between Isabel and freedom. Heshot to his feet, and he and his mother racedto the gate.

Ian beat her there, barely. He pressedhis back against the wood and covered thelatch with a hand.

Step away from the door, Ian, said Isa-

bel. She leveled her gaze at him, and Ian


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thought he might drop dead on the spot. Itpierced him like a poisoned dart, like hewould never stop bleeding.

What are you doing here? he asked.Youre supposed to be in America.

Dont ask questions you dont want toknow the answer to, darling. Though Imsure well be seeing each other soon, said

Isabel. Now, stand away from the door, Ian.I wont ask again.

He knew that he shouldnt. He knewthat he should find some way to restrain her;

he should get the police; he should send herback to jail. He should do that much for Amyand Dan, for himself and Natalie.

She looked at him in a way that madehis throat close and his eyes water. Ian Kabra

did not cry, but he thought in that minute hemight. She was steel and he was paper andshe tore right through him.


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But if he stopped her, shed go back toprison. There would be no more parole, nomore Isabel loose in Boston.

Amy would be so happy. Shed be soproud.

Hed never have to worry that Isabelwould show up again.

Shed never show up again. For a birth-

day, a polo match . . . anything.Perhaps his conscience was too new; he

hadnt used it enough yet to know how to useit properly. Perhaps he just wasnt good at

doing the right thing.Ian stepped away from the door.Isabel smiled again, and swept past him.

Thank you, darling.She opened the door, stepped through,

and shut it behind her.


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Shame swept over Ian like a tidal wave. Hestared at the garden door, and it was hard tobreathe. The realization of what he had donesmacked him in the face and it was cold, likea block of ice. He jerked the door open andstumbled out into the street.

But there was no one there. Isabel hadgotten away.

No. Hed let her go.Ian looked back at the house. For the

first time in his life, he didnt feel worthy ofliving there. He didnt deserve it.

Ian Kabra would never cry. But he didsit down on the ground, something else hethought he would never do, and put his facein his hands for just a moment. Somehow, heremembered to breathe. It was funny, how

you could keep breathing when you justmade the biggest mistake of your life.

In the mansion, he found Natalie in thelibrary.


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What on earth happened to you? shegasped. Your trousers!

I went into the . . . the Lucian wing.Natalies head jerked backward like hed

just told her hed be wearing flannel anddenim from now on. Why? she asked.

I thought I heard someone in there.Did you? she asked, gripping the arm

of the chair she sat in. Natalie could be anuisance; she could be tiresome and petu-lant. But she looked so small and scared, likean actual little sister, that he couldnt bring

himself to let her know that her nightmareswere coming true.No, he said. It was nothing.Then why do you look like that?

Natalie asked.

Ian looked down at his clothes. He wascovered with tiny bits of glass dust. The toesof his polished leather shoes had been re-duced to unintentional suede. His sweater

was gashed through across his stomach, and


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his polo shirt was stained an ugly greenishbrown.

I took a walk in the gardens, he said.All of that happened from a walk in the

gardens?You know Im not the outdoorsy type.

Good night.He left the library and wandered to his

room.He could never tell Amy, and he couldnt

go to America. It would be too much to bear,a secret too heavy for the airplane to lift

across the ocean.And the more he thought about it, theangrier he grew with himself. Making theright choice the good choice shouldhave been so easy. He could see that now. All

it would have meant was saying no to Isabel.Stand aside, she would have said. And

Ian would have said no.Im not asking again, she would have

said. And Ian would have said no.


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But he hadnt said anything at all. And,worst of all, his mother hadnt even expectedhim to. Isabel had known how weak hewould be.

How could feelings be this complicated?He liked Amy; she was so simply good. Sosmart, and so sweet, and so pretty, forsomeone with such a limited wardrobe. But,

strangely enough, he loved his mother.Amy wouldnt like him anymore after

this. What would she think if she knew? Thathe was a Kabra through and through, just

like theyd all always thought. That no goodcould come of him. But what right did shehave to think ill of him? She didnt know howhard it was to have a mother like Isabel. Shedidnt know the pressure, the pain, the con-

stant expectations.She didnt have any idea of what it was

like to be a Kabra. She and that brother ofhers just stumbled in and out of lifes biggest

challenges, making it out alive because of a


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bit of luck and the kindness of others likehimself.

He doubted that she could so much assay her own name without stuttering, or tieher shoes without being racked with uncer-tainty. It was pathetic, and just another ex-ample of how far removed from his worldshe was, monetary wealth or no.

And he knew that none of that was true,at all.

He grabbed for the phone. It was amiserable thing, to be responsible for break-

ing your own heart.

Amy was having a great afternoon. Shedmade up the bed in the guest room andpainted her nails, and now that all of hertasks for the day were done, she found that

she couldnt sit still. She perched on the


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couch, but then wandered to the kitchen, andthen outside, and then back to the livingroom. It was as if a tiny motor had kicked onbehind her stomach and it was poweringlittle wheels that ran all over her arms andlegs, gears turning and turning and makingenergy that needed to be used.

She wondered if this was what it felt like

to be Dan.Back in the kitchen, Nellie was whipping

up a batch of macaroons while jamming outto her iPod. Sometimes, Amy thought Nellie

forgot that there were other people around.Every now and then shed stop in her stirringto use the spoon as a guitar, and shed wailout a few licks.

Dan wandered in and took a good look

at Nellie. The buzz from her music could beheard across the kitchen. Nellie, he said,Atticus and I are going to eat Doritos andPixy Stix for dinner. Cool with you? He shot

her a thumbs-up.


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And you used my heart as a Kleenex,Nellie sang. But youre the one full of snot!

Awesome, Dan said, pulling out a bagof chips only for Nellie to smack him inthe chest with a carrot.

Amys cell phone buzzed in her backpocket and she answered it quickly.

Hello, she said.

Amy. It was Ian. Amy grinned, bitingher lip when her stomach flopped over. Hereally did have a great accent.

Its Ian,Amy mouthed to Nellie. Nellie,

still dancing, gave her an enthusiasticthumbs-up.OooOOoooh, said Dan, squeezing his

carrot tight.Nellie grabbed for Amys hand and tried

to dance with her while she was on thephone. It was so silly, but Amy couldnt helpbut to give in. She held the phone with onehand, letting Nellie spin her around with the


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other. All all set to come over and visit?Ive Dan-proofed the whole place.

Dan-proofed. Is that supposed to beclever?

Amy stopped dancing, and she let go ofNellies hand. Nellie took her earbuds outand gave her a funny look, but Amy blushedand looked away.

Ian, is everything, uh, okay? sheasked.

Of course, he said quickly. Ive de-cided to stay in London. Everything is

perfect.Amys stomach dropped. Youre staying youre . . . youre not coming anymore?Dread crept over her like a swarm of beetles.She was acutely aware of Nellie and Dan

watching her from the other side of thekitchen.

Is that disappointment I hear, AmyCahill? How very quaint. Id no idea you


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were so attached to the idea of playinghouse.

Wh-why are you saying What is that? I cant understand you.Ian, I c-can you come some other

time? Maybe?As soon as the words came out of her

mouth, she hated herself for it. Ian was being

a jerk, and she still wanted him to come?How pathetic could she get?

Ian paused, and Amy bit her lip. Whywould he change his mind the day before he

left?No, he said, finally. Amys face fell.Her shoulders slumped in and she turnedaway from Dan and Nellie.

Oh, said Amy. She didnt want to

sound disappointed. She didnt want him toknow how sad she was. But Amy reallywasnt a very good liar. Well, okay. But, Ian,if something is wrong


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Why would I tell you if something werewrong? he snapped. She felt the sting froman ocean away. What makes you think thatyou know anything about me at all, Amy?What makes you think I would tell youanything?

This was not what she had been practi-cing since she found out he was coming.

Shed even learned to make tea the real way,not by heating up some water in the mi-crowave and dropping in a tea bag and thenforgetting about it.

Im going to hang up now, she saidquietly.Fine.Good-bye, Ian, she said.He paused again. She thought she heard

something like a sniff or a choke, but it wasprobably the sound of him tearing up hisplane ticket. Good-bye, Amy.

She hung up the phone. Dan and Nellie

were quiet.


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Well, think about it, said Dan. Didyou really want Natalie Kabra as a sister-in-law?

Okay, take the Doritos and go, saidNellie, taking her carrot back and throwingthe bag of chips at him. Dan caught the bag,looked between Nellie and his sister, and de-cided that any other place in the world was

better than that kitchen. What did he say?Nellie asked.

He cant come, said Amy. He didntsay why. He wouldnt say why. She

shouldnt have been so upset. She shouldnthave felt like someone had jabbed a pin intoher feelings and deflated them all over thekitchen floor.

Nellie plopped into a kitchen chair and

shook her head. That stinks, she said. Amyshrugged. I mean, it stinks wheneversomeone cancels on you, but its even worsewhen you like the guy.


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I dont like him, Amy said immedi-ately, folding her arms across her chest. Ijust did so much work to get ready for him tocome over from London and now Im justupset that, you know, the house is clean forno good reason.

Oh, Amy, said Nellie. You dont likehim. And my favorite band isntSingle Cell

Paramecium. You can trust me, kiddo. Thatswhat Im here for.

I just dont get it, said Amy, sittingdown beside Nellie. She put her phone on

the table and stared at it. I mean, did I dosomething? Am I . . . unvisitable? So-mething prickled at her eyes. He just turnedso mean on the phone. Its like between a fewdays ago and today he just decided that Im

something worthless. Like he cant evenstand to talk to me. She wiped the back ofher palm across her cheek. Its stupid. I feelstupid. I feel stupid for wanting him to come,


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and for being so . . . excited, and I feel stupidfor crying.

Its not stupid, said Nellie, handingAmy a napkin. Your feelings are neverstupid.

Amy pushed the napkin against hereyes. What did I do wrong?

Oh, Amy, nothing. Look, theres a lot of

truth to the statement Its his loss. I mean,Amy Cahill, you are awesome. After all thatyouve been through, after how smart andcapable and utterly exceptional you have

proven yourself to be, anyone should feelprivileged to know you. I know that I do.Amy shrugged. She didnt feel excep-

tional or capable. She felt gullible, as if thiswhole thing had just been a joke to him as

if she were a joke. Amy reached for a newnapkin and wiped at a fresh round of tears.I just dont know what happened.

Amy, if he cant see how awesome you

are, then I dont care how rich he is he


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cant even buy a clue. And Im not just sayingthat. As someone who is, like, alive becauseof your awesomeness, I mean, I speak withauthority here. I am the law.

Nellie may have been right but it stillfelt awful.

Amy hiccupped and scratched her nailalong the top of the kitchen table. The Kab-

ras arepoor now, Nellie, she said, adding asmall smile.

Nellie threw back her head and laughed.Poor. Gosh, those kids are going to have

such a rude awakening one of these days.Look, Amy, would you ever let someone treatme that way? Or treat Dan that way?

No.Then dont let anyone treat you that

way, either. No more tears now? Good youkill me when you do that. Amy, let me be oldand wise for a minute. There are boys whowill make you cry, and then there are boys

who are worth spending your fabulous


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energy on. What about that boy from class?Ethan or something?

Evan, Amy said automatically.Ah, said Nellie, grinning. I knew

youd know who I meant. Forget Ian Kabraand his shiny hair and polo shirts. Think ofyou, Amy. Do you want to give someone likeEvan a call?

Call? said Amy, her mouth droppingopen a little bit. Call a boy? And say what?Calling boys was something that only super-heroes could do, or something.

Yes, call. Ring. Telephone. Buzz. Nelliestood up and slid the cell phone over towardAmy. Think about it. And then she left.

Amy watched her go. It was a thought.But could she, Amy Cahill, really call a boy?

Could Amy Cahill brave an undergroundcatacomb full of bones? Could Amy Cahillsurvive a cave-in? Could Amy Cahill fly to thetop of Mount Everest in a helicopter so light

that a sneeze could knock it over?


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Actually, Amy thought, yes, she could.So, obviously, she could call a boy.

Amy went to her room for some privacyand scrolled through her phone. Evan hadgiven his number to her when they hadworked on a science project together. She saton the edge of her bed, her stomach flippingback and forth like an antsy pancake as she

pushed the numbers.And then it was ringing.Hello?Hi, she said. Evan? Hi, its Amy

Cahill. She paused, and smiled. Youre gladI called? So am I.


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