I numbly followed along through several more buildings, not even laughing at Kane leaving his mark on all the glass partitions. Inside the old saloon, zoning out listening to Dallas talk, I caught my reflection in the ancient mirror behind the bar. I saw a hunched-forward teenager, half of her face covered by stringy dark hair, limbs too long, skin too pale.

That girl used to stand a little taller.

That girl used to pull back her hair so you could see her face.

That girl used to feel comfortable in her skin, sometimes.

Oh yeah? That girl was never any good. It was all a lie. She just lived in the glow of Colette’s spotlight.

That thing in the mirror? That’s the real Tess.

“Is everything okay?” Aunt Maureen whispered. She looked concerned. “Are you having fun?”

“I am,” I lied, “but I can’t go in the mine. I can’t go underground.” I braced myself for her to tell me I had to.

“That’s okay, Tessy Bear, you can skip that part.”

She smiled warmly at me like she didn’t care at all, before refocusing on whatever Dallas was saying. But somehow, a half hour later, I ended up blindly following everyone along the ore tracks through the entrance to the tunnel. Aunt Maureen had made it seem like nothing—had told me I didn’t have to do it—but for some reason, I went.

It was a mistake.

At first, I could see pretty well, and I felt okay about it. The sun from outside beamed through the opening behind us, and Dallas held a lantern up above his shoulders to guide our way. Kane skipped happily, running his hand along the rock wall. I concentrated on stepping over instead of tripping on the wooden slats that connected the metal tracks.

But then the outside light started to fade, and the walkway felt like it got tighter, the rock walls on both sides of me and the ceiling above leaning in like friends with a serious secret.

I didn’t like it; I didn’t want to know the secret.

“Is the path getting smaller?” I asked, but Uncle Bran asked a question at the same time, so no one heard me.

I smell another freak-out coming, said my nasty inner self. Your aunt and uncle are going to be so glad they agreed to let you come on this trip. I mean, is that your heartbeat? Calm down!

I took a deep breath of air that hadn’t seemed stale and stifling before—but did then. I pictured it crawling into my lungs, attaching itself to the sides of my airways all the way down. I took another breath, and I couldn’t fill my lungs as much. I tried again, and I got even less air.