“Eleanor, that’s wonderful,” Uncle Ben said, grinning. Eleanor was briefly grateful for the effect of the Wrong Things. They didn’t seem to be questioning how this all could be happening. “Any other grand surprises?”

“Well,” Eleanor said delicately. “There is one more thing.”

Naomi had stomped to the doorway, peering out into the hall. Suddenly she grinned and clapped her hands. “Puppy!” she cried.

Heavy steps echoed in the hall. A massive, blocky head appeared, eyes glowing red. The graveyard dog looked down at the chubby one-year-old. “Woof,” he enunciated clearly.

She shrieked in delight.

“We have a dog now,” Eleanor said, making a ta-da gesture.

“I’ve always wanted a dog,” Ben said faintly.

The graveyard dog lay down so Naomi could reach his ears, which had suddenly become her only purpose in life. His tail thumped on the ground.

“He’s going to be a very good boy,” Eleanor said firmly.

“Very good,” the dog agreed.

“Did he just . . .” Jenny said.

“I’ve always wanted a talking dog,” Ben said, and sat down, clutching his coffee.

“Everything’s okay, right?” Jenny asked, looking at Eleanor with a question in her eyes.

“Yes,” Eleanor said, and she broke into a wide grin. “Everything is perfect.”

•   •   •

THEY MET UP in the woods near Otto’s house, where once upon a time they’d hidden out, waiting out Halloween and hoping the January Society wouldn’t find them.

“I think my dad is actually remembering some stuff,” Pip said. She sat with her back against a tree, her coppery hair in one long braid down her back. She still had the rangy, muscular build the warrior Story had given her, but she seemed different. The fierce light in her eyes was hers alone again, and her smile felt warmer.

Otto walked along a fallen log, arms out to balance himself. “My parents, too. I tried to sell them on the bedbug story, but then I saw Lily and started ugly-crying and my mom gave me The Look and told me that it was time to explain myself. So I did, and it went . . . fine. Like, they still remembered a few hours later, and their heads didn’t explode.”

“I thought I was going to get away without having to explain things. Forgot about the talking dog,” Eleanor said. “They definitely remember now. But Jack says it shouldn’t be dangerous like it was before, since it built up gradually. Jenny’s got a little bit of a headache, but that’s it. And now that everything’s over, I’m kind of glad? I didn’t want them to be worried, but I’m glad I can talk about it, you know?”

“Yeah,” Pip agreed, nodding.

“Definitely,” Otto said with relief. “I used to tell my parents everything. I miss it.”

“So things can go back to normal now,” Eleanor said.

“Yeah,” Pip said. She didn’t quite meet Eleanor’s eyes.