I’m not ready for Fina to leave when Mr. Ramirez shows up to take her home that afternoon. I don’t want the spell to break. When she was here, it was like the wall between me and the rest of the world wasn’t a wall anymore. It felt more like a curtain that could be lifted away.

But as the weekend draws to an end, I feel a familiar weight of dread in my stomach that grows heavier and heavier. And when I wake up on Monday morning, I feel almost too heavy to get out of bed.

When I finally do, I catch my reflection in the bathroom mirror. Sometimes, like today, it’s still a shock to see myself, the splashes of pale across my face. They remind me of the paintings Gram left in her studio, the bits of blank canvas peeking out between all the colors.

All the things she left unfinished.

Saying all that stuff about not letting myself be invisible was easy enough in the Spinney, where there was no Edie to sneer at me, nobody to gawk at me or pretend I’m not there. What if I get to school and the curtain falls again, leaving me alone once more?

There’s no point in worrying about things you can’t change, Gram’s voice chides, and you can’t change what people think of you.

But this time, Gram’s words sound hollow to me. Maybe you can’t change what people think of you, but sometimes what people think changes you, whether you want it to or not.

Just as I’m finishing my cereal, there’s a knock on the front door. Mom and Dad exchange a puzzled look, then Mom goes to answer it.

“Well, hi, Fina!” I hear her say. I feel my heart rise like a kite, and I get up and run to the door. Sure enough, there’s Fina, waiting on the doorstep.

“Good morning, Mrs. Talbot,” she says. “I thought I might ride the bus with Emma today.”

“How nice,” Mom replies, then waves to Ms. Ramirez. “I’ll just go say hi to your mom.”

“You didn’t have to come,” I say to Fina, but I’m not sure I’ve ever been happier to see her.

“Yeah, well, I thought you could use some company,” she replies. “And also, I have an idea. About your pen pal. A plan.”

We walk to my stop. It’s really cold this morning, so we both kind of hop back and forth from one foot to the other to keep warm. Fortunately, the bus pulls up pretty much right away.

Fina scooches in next to me on the squeaky blue seat, and we huddle close so she can whisper her plan.