(Addendum: Council not unanimous on this point either. Some of us believe performing an otherwise inexplicable makeover on a fort is the same as telling about the network; others do not. The letter written by Abby Hernandez added weight to the argument for censure, dealing as it did with fort access and manipulation, and in the end we decided to note the violation. While Kelly may not know the hows and whys of what has happened to her fort, she is sure to understand that something out of the ordinary is going on with it, something she would not have been aware of without your actions or your letter.)
Due to these somewhat unclear violations, an appropriately calibrated reprimand has been carried out. You have been warned. Another violation of our regulations and guidelines will result in a full-scale attack.
You are now officially on probation. Remember there are just under two days remaining for you to fulfill your obligations and perform a good deed up to NAFAFA standards, or your application for membership will be rejected and your network permanently terminated.
Have a nice day.
Sincerely,
The Council of NAFAFA
“I bet you anything Ben wrote that,” I said, glaring at the note.
“Dude,” said Abby. “That is some serious cucumber casserole right there! I did not tell Kelly too much in the note. I barely told her anything. And what do they mean about her link being ‘accidentally created’?”
“I have a guess about that.” My brain had finally put two and two together, and I was pretty sure I was right. “Remember how you said Kelly and I were kindred spirits because we both owned crimping scissors?”
“Yeah . . .”
“I think it was actually the same pair.”
“Huh? Explain, please.”
I showed her the PS in my mom’s note. “I think she meant her crimping scissors,” I said, “and I think she took them to work and gave them to Kelly for her arts and crafts.”
“So your mom was the one who added the new fort,” said Abby slowly. “And we’re the ones who got in trouble for it?”
“Kind of makes you want to scream, doesn’t it?” I said.
“Of course it does!” said Abby. “We did tons of good deeds yesterday, and we made a sick kid really happy, and those Council kids still attacked us. I’ve never been in trouble like this before! How am I going to—”
But she was interrupted as one of the wall pillows came flying into the fort and a kid in silver sunglasses appeared in its place.
I felt my mouth fall open.
It was Noriko.
Fifteen
“Hey! What—?” I said, just as Abby said, “Dude! Who—?”
Noriko gave us a short nod.
“Hello again, Maggie Hetzger,” she said. “And hello, Abby Hernandez. My name is Noriko. I’m Head of the Council of NAFAFA and Chancellor of the Forts of the Eastern Seaboard.”
Abby gaped at her. “You’re one of the ones who sent the letter.”
Noriko nodded again, making her earrings—dangly silver penguins this time—dance in the lamplight. There was a pause, and then Abby and I both started shouting at once.
“—totally outrageous—”
“—poor little kid—”
“—and your sunglasses, too!”
“I am here,” said Noriko, raising a hand and speaking over us, “to make sure you received your letter of reprimand and understand the contents.”
We were both telling her exactly what we thought of her letter of reprimand when Noriko put a finger to her lips in a shh signal, pulled a slip of paper from her pocket, and held it out. Abby and I stopped shouting, our voices trailing off. I took the paper.
“I know our policies at NAFAFA can be very hard for novices such as yourselves to understand,” Noriko said as though nothing had happened, “and as head of the Council it’s my duty to make sure we’re communicating with you effectively. An uncertain network does no one any favors.”
She nodded meaningfully at the paper. I unfolded it, and Abby crowded around to read.
Hi! Ask me to show you the collecting room Murray told you about. ACT NATURAL.
We looked up at her.
“So, do you have any questions you’d like to ask?” Noriko said deliberately.
I blinked. Abby nudged me.
“Oh. Um, okay, yes.” I glanced back at the note. “I was wondering if you would show us that collecting room Murray told me about. The one where all the coins go. Or that’s what he told me. When Murray told me about the room. Anyway, could we see it?”
I hoped that counted as acting natural. Noriko smiled and gave a thumbs-up.
“What a strange request,” she said loudly. “But I suppose it would be all right. Follow me.” She backed out of the link, and Abby and I crawled after her into the Hub.
Abby didn’t have to try acting natural when she stood up and looked around. Her reaction was perfect. She gaped at the mammoth patchwork ceiling, the maze of sofas and shelves, the curving pillow wall, and the gleaming chandelier.
Noriko led the way along the wall to the left, and I followed behind, trying not to show how much I was enjoying watching Abby gawk and stare.
It was busier in the Hub than it had been during my midnight visit. The place was packed. A group of girls ran through the crowd just ahead of us, playing what looked like some kind of badminton tag. One aisle over, a circle of older-looking kids holding scripts was acting out a play, complete with dramatic crying and bad British accents. A paper airplane arced over a cluster of forts made of beach umbrellas and neon-pink towels, and a hand reached out of the forts and caught it. A moment later there was a shout of laughter, and a plastic soda bottle with a roll of paper inside went flying back the other way, just missing a line of boys in hockey jerseys fencing with foam pool noodles.
Abby fell back and grabbed my arm. “Mags, this is the best thing I’ve ever seen in my whole life! Look at all these kids we get to meet!”
Suddenly the badminton birdie whizzed by
