Maybe arches like this were common. Erick had said it was a natural formation—maybe there were some like it on Earth, too. Or maybe it was just a coincidence. But something felt really weird about this whole thing.

I hadn’t heard the garage door go up, but the slam of the kitchen door was unmistakable. My little sister Celeste’s voice echoed noisily down the hall. She was chattering at Mom about something they’d done at her after-school program.

Crap. I slid my palmtop out of my pocket to look at the time. It was already after six. Quickly, I yanked the crawlspace hatch closed and rushed out of my mom’s room.

The idea had been to sneak the box into my own room, but as I turned the corner, there was Mom standing in my doorway.

“Oh, Isaak, there you are,” she said.

“Hey, Mom. How was your day?” My heart was pounding so loud that I was sure she’d be able to hear it, but she didn’t seem to notice anything amiss.

“The usual. You know, boring lab stuff.” She grinned and nudged me. “But how about you? What’s this I hear about you volunteering at Erick’s geological survey? That was unexpected!”

“Oh, yeah, well, you know.” My fingers clenched around the box behind my back. I hoped it didn’t look too obvious. “It was… fresher than I thought it would be.”

“But that’s wonderful! To see you taking an interest and engaging in something…” I thought for panicked a minute that she was going to hug me, and how exactly would I be able to conceal the box then? But she got this far-off look on her face and sort of turned, looking off into nowhere. “Ay, niño, I was really worried about you for a while there. Well, I suppose it’s only natural, such big changes at such a young age—everyone needs time to cope…”

I tried to take advantage of her reverie to creep backward into my bedroom. I’d forgotten, of course, about Celeste. I hadn’t even noticed her standing in her own doorway, watching Mom fawn over me with her ever-sticky fingers in her mouth, until I heard her say, “Zak, what’s in the box?”

Dammitdammitdammitdammit

Mom’s eyes flicked over to me and her smile faded. “Isaak, what are you hiding there?”

“Nothing.”

“Isaak.”

Her face left no room for argument. I sighed and reluctantly produced the lunch box.

She frowned momentarily, as if trying to remember where she knew the thing from. Then realization dawned. “Isaak, where did you get that?”

I hate when adults do crap like that. “Where did you get that?” You torquing know where I got it from, you’re the one who put it there. What you really want to know is, “What were you doing in my closet? Besides invading my privacy and defying my orders, that is.”