“Did you apply for us to move anywhere or just the capital?”

“Just the capital. I didn’t know it would be this competitive. I feel like I should have known.”

Izabel didn’t say anything. And then they both heard it—Cami talking in her sleep. They hurried to her room.

“I love orange. Do you have a favorite color?

“No, I can’t see colors.

“Are you blind? I’ve seen a blind person but I haven’t ever seen a blind child . . .”

It sounded strange, all in her little voice, this back and forth.

“What is she doing?” Izabel asked.

“I don’t know,” Kaito said.

“I know all of the colors. I know some of the colors in Spanish . . .”

“She sounds like she’s awake,” Kaito said.

Izabel nodded.

“He killed another family,” Cami said.

Kaito walked toward her.

Cami kept going. “He defeated them?

“They’re dead.

“I don’t like that word, say ‘defeated’ . . .”

When Kaito reached her, he shouted, “Wake up, Cami. Wake up.”

Cami woke up and looked at them there in her room. “Are you both sleeping with me tonight?”

“No,” Izabel said, “not tonight.”

“Do you remember what you were dreaming about?” Kaito said.

“No. I don’t think I have dreams.”

“It was important. You’re sure you don’t remember?”

Cami shook her head.

“Okay, honey,” Izabel said. “Close your eyes and go back to sleep.”

“I sleep with my eyes open!”

“That’s right. I forgot. I’m sorry. Back to sleep now.”

Kaito stormed into the dining room. “What was that?”

“I don’t know,” Izabel said.

“Should we call someone?”

“And say what? Our daughter said another family’s dead?”

That’s when they saw the flashing lights of police cars and ambulances through the clear plastic windows. If they’d been a few houses closer, they would have heard the alarms of the sliced-open house.

    Chapter Eight

Izabel remembered lying in bed with her mother one night, and the windows began to light up red. She asked her mother what it was.

“The police,” she said.

“Why are they here?”

“They’re not here. They probably pulled someone over. Do you know what that means?”

Izabel shook her head.

“Someone was speeding, or went through a red light, and now they’re getting a ticket.”

The lights went white in the room and it was too bright to fall asleep. Izabel asked what that was, too.

“The police still. They can change their lights.”

“If I were them, I would change them to green and blue for our favorite colors.”

Izabel’s mother kissed her on her forehead. “That’s not a setting you can do.”

“Can I look outside?”

“I’d rather you didn’t,” her mother said.

“Why?”

“Someone could have a gun.”

“Will you look outside?”

Her mother looked out and then put her head back down on her pillow. “Yup, they pulled a car over.”