The costume shop wasn’t exactly in Eauclaire’s nicest street, but it wasn’t far from it. It was a relatively large building, with some Halloween stuff in one window and mannequins in uniforms in the other. Emily supposed that with October coming around soonish, it made sense that a place like this would start switching out their merchandise already.

The store, in addition to costumes, also sold work uniforms and equipment. Nurses’ smocks, retail uniforms, and a few odds and ends. There was a dry cleaning service, too, at the back.

Emily gave it fifty-fifty odds of it being some money laundering front, because even with its two niches, there was no way it had enough customers to justify the size of the place.

“Okay,” she said as she walked in with her gaggle of sisters. The girl behind the counter stared at the kids with the sort of horror reserved for retail workers on minimum wage that were about to have a story-worthy day. “We’re going to behave.”

“Yeah, yeah, no worries,” Teddy said.

“No. Big worries,” Emily retorted. She pointed to Teddy, finger all ready to waggle. “No threatening anyone, no running around, no complaining about capitalism or pushing the communist . . . whatever . . . onto anyone. Be civil. You’re the oldest of my sisters—you should act mature. I trust you.”

Teddy pouted at first, but by the end, her chest was puffed with pride.

Her finger turned to Athena. “No scaring people. You’re a clever and observant girl. I’m sure you know what kind of behavior I’d frown on.”

Athena nodded. “I can do that. Or . . . not do that. Yeah, no problem.”

“Good. And, Trinity. I want . . . one of you with each sister, and one with me, okay? Also, no stealing.”

“All right!” Trinity agreed. She only spoke from one of her, which was great because talking from three bodies simultaneously was just a little too creepy.

Emily nodded as she lowered her finger and straightened her back. She was getting really good at getting her sisters to listen. Not that they’d do what she said.

Holding on to Trinity’s hand, Emily moved off toward the rows of cheap costumes, eyeing the sweaters and dresses and, most importantly, the price tags. “So . . . what sort of costume are you thinking of?” Emily asked.

“I know just what I want,” Trinity said.

“Really?”

The raccoon girl nodded. “I want to be a burglar.”

“A . . . a burglar?” Emily repeated. She remembers then Trinity’s earlier remark about wanting to be a bandit.

“Yeah. They’re the best. They get to take things, and keep them; they stay up late, which is cool; and they play tag with the police all the time.”

“I’m pretty sure you have at least one wrong idea there,” Emily said. “But . . . all right. I can see a burglar outfit working.”