“We’ve arranged for you to have help,” Xandria said, opening the door.

“Dad!”

August fell to his knees, silenced by the sight of his son.

“August!”

He looked across the room at April. Despite her frazzled state, he’d never seen her look so beautiful. He tried to speak, but the words failed him. He felt the tears swell in his eyes, a dam of pent-up emotion unleashed.

“Get up,” Xandria said.

August struggled to his feet and ran over to Charlie, who threw his arms around his father. April got up from her chair—arms still bound—and joined the embrace in Charlie’s arms.

Xandria threw August’s notebook and the Gutenberg journal onto the table. “Make sure and say your good-byes. This might be the last time you see each other alive.”

The door slammed.

The countdown began.

Twenty-three

twenty-three

The air was rife with questions. August, April, and Charlie all wanted to recount every second of the last few hours, compare notes, try to figure out exactly what had happened, and why. But there just wasn’t time, so they focused on the immediate: how August broke his nose (they beat me within an inch of my life, he said), how April ripped out the last three illuminated pages (they threatened Charlie’s life, she said), and how Charlie had come to be there at all (they promised me candy—what?—just kidding, they kidnapped me, he said).

“Who was that lady that brought you in here, Dad?”

“She’s someone your mother would call a—”

“August!”

Charlie filled in the blank for his dad.

“Charlie! Where on earth did you hear that?” April huffed.

“Probably from me. That’s where he seems to pick up all his bad habits, right?”

“That’s not true. Grandma Rose has some bad habits. I saw her smoke one time.”

“Your grandma does not smoke.”

“Mom. I saw it with both my eyes.”

August smirked. “I think I’m starting to like your mother more now that she smokes.”

“August, stop. Charlie, I’m sure you just saw it wrong. Maybe she was lighting a candle.”

“Why would she put a candle in her mouth?”

“I don’t know, Charlie. But I’m sure there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation.”

“Mom! I’m not lying!”

“I never said you were lying.”

“You made it sound like I was lying.”

“No, I’m just saying maybe you don’t know the whole story.”

August stood up and stomped his foot. April and Charlie fell silent.

“Listen to us!” he said. “The drugs they stuck us with are making us babble, but we have to focus. I’m as interested as both of you are about whether Grandma Rose is a three-pack-a-day chain-smoker, but if we don’t figure out this puzzle, we’ll never find out.”

“I’m not lying.”

“Charlie!” August said.

“Sorry, Dad.”