The Hidden

“She seems nice,” Caspian said, a teasing lilt to his voice. “Why didn’t you tell her about me?”

“Riiiiiight. What was I supposed to say? ‘Yeah, sure, Beth. I’ll go with you. But there’s just this one teeny, tiny thing. See, I don’t need to find a boyfriend because I already have one. He’s just dead and therefore invisible.’”

Caspian laughed, and I pinched the bridge of my nose. Why was my life so complicated?

Chapter Four. MIND MOJO

Such is the general purport of this legendary superstition, which has furnished materials for many a wild story …

– “The Legend of Sleepy Hollow”

The next week and a half passed by quickly, and I was just getting used to having the sling on when it was time to take it off. Caspian went with me to the doctor’s office, but it was when we got home that the real surprise of the day came. Cacey and Uri were waiting there for us, standing by a car parked at the end of our driveway as Mom pulled up.

They were both dressed in khaki pants and business shirts-outfits similar to what they’d been wearing when they’d come to my room right after Vincent had been there. But Cacey’s blond hair was blue at the bottom.

“Surprise!” Cacey said when Mom turned the car off. “We thought we’d come see you.”

Mom, of course, was thrilled to see my new friends. “Well, hi! How nice of you two to stop by. Aren’t you working today?”

Cacey shook her head. “Kame suggested that we come talk to Abbey to see if she wants to join the intern program at the real estate office with us. It’s such a fantastic experience. We’re sure she’d be great at it. There’s nothing more valuable than learning the lesson of hard work!”

Trying to keep a straight face through Cacey’s BS was becoming a monumental task. Real estate interns … Yeah, right. How long was she going to keep this act up? It didn’t help matters when she started winking at Caspian.

Mom must have noticed the winking, because she asked Cacey, “Are you okay?”

“I think I have something in my eye.” Cacey winked again and then grinned unabashedly. “So, do you want to come with us, Abbey? We’re heading over to the office now, and you can see what we do. Learn more about the program.” She stretched out the word “program” into two long syllables.

Mom glanced at me, and out of the corner of my eye I saw Cacey nod her head once. I followed suit. “Okay …”

Mom’s smile couldn’t have gotten any bigger. Clearly she was pleased by my “initiative.”

It’s not real, I wanted to tell her. They aren’t really interns, and Kame and Sophie aren’t real estate agents.

But the less she knew, the better.

“We’ll have her back by dinner, Mrs. Browning,” Cacey called, directing me to the backseat of their car. Uri said something to Mom to distract her, and Cacey motioned for Caspian to get in too. He slid in next to me, and I shut the door.

“What are we getting ourselves into?” he asked.

“I have no idea. But it must be important for them to come get us like this.”

Cacey got in the front passenger seat and pulled down the mirror, checking out her blue-tipped hair. “I know. I know,” she said, almost to herself. “That was laying it on thick. ‘The value of hard work.’ Ha! But I get so caught up in this little drama. I just love it.”

“What’s up with the whole pretending to be an intern thing?” I asked. “And the outfits?”

“Just playing a role. It’s better for us to fit in when we can.” She smiled at me, and I had the distinct impression of a shark eyeing its prey. Her clear, gray eyes were wide and focused. The faintest scent of smoke, or burning leaves, filled the car, and then it was gone. I felt a rash of goose bumps run up and down my arms.

“Did anyone ever tell you that you’re kind of creepy?” I said suddenly.

She burst out laughing. “Yeah. I am. Thanks for noticing.” Preening, like I’d just offered her a compliment instead of an insult, she patted her hair and air-kissed the mirror.

Uri came over to the car and got in. “Hi, Abbey.” His smile was genuine and friendly, his voice smooth like chocolate. He slammed the door shut. “Caspian.”

Caspian nodded back, and I wondered if this was it. Were they here to take me to my everlasting reward in a … “Hey, is this a Jetta?” I asked.

“Yup.” Uri kept his eyes on the road and pulled out of the driveway.

“Nice, right?” Cacey said. “Totally better than some of the other rides we’ve had. Do you have any idea how long a Volkswagen bus can continue to run? Even when the floorboards are rotting out and the dash is falling to pieces and the whole thing smells like a Sunday school nursery class?” She shuddered.

“Well, it’s no sweet chariot,” I replied, and grinned at Caspian.

He didn’t seem to get it.

Or maybe he did, because he frowned.

“Are we supposed to be impressed by your ability to remember church hymns?” Cacey asked. “Ooh, do you know one called ‘Amazing Grace’?” she deadpanned.

Heat bloomed in my ears. “No. I meant ‘swing low, sweet chariot.’ Like the song? Aren’t you guys ‘coming forth to carry me home’ and all that? Aren’t we, you know … Going? To my next destination? A long drop and a short stop?”

Cacey laughed, and it rang through the car like the clear high-pitched peal of a bell. “Dramatic much, Abbey? We’re just going to get some lunch.”

I sat back and looked morosely out the window, feeling duly chastised. Highway blacktop rushed up to meet us, and the single lane became two. I felt a slow flare of sensation in my knee and looked down. Caspian was trying to nudge it.

He gave me a sympathetic smile. “I thought it was pretty clever,” he leaned over to whisper. “The whole ‘sweet chariot’ thing.”

“Good-looking and loyal,” I whispered back. “You’re a deadly combination.”

“Deadly.” … Good going there, Abbey.

But if he noticed my poor choice of words, he didn’t let on.

“Hey, you two,” Cacey said. “This isn’t secret time. Do you want to share with the rest of the class?”

“No.” I crossed my arms.

“Fine. It’s rude, but whatever.”

Cacey was calling me rude? The same person who had drunk all of her soda in front of me just so she wouldn’t have to share any of it when I was in the hospital and practically dying of thirst, and who had a snarky reply whenever someone asked her something, was calling me rude?

I was about to launch into it, when all of a sudden Caspian leaned forward and said loudly, “So, Uri, about that Volkswagen bus …”

Instantly the tension in the car broke, and I laughed.

“Loyal, good-looking, and smart,” I said to him. “But you already knew that.”

Uri grinned and switched lanes. “It was a 1951 VW bus, and it was a beast. Already going on forty years old when we, uh, acquired it. It had some interesting history.”

“It was a crap-mobile,” Cacey said. “With pleather seats and orange shag carpeting. I swear it had to have once been a traveling sideshow circus car or something.”

“Do you remember the mummified mouse?” Uri asked her.