The room she took us to had a cozy sitting area and access to a private porch, as well as a big, plush bed. After an uncomfortable day of travel, I was looking forward to catching up on sleep and finally getting some real rest. Before I could throw myself on the mattress, however, I knew I needed to get in touch with Nina and tell her the deal was off. When Sydney said she wanted to take a shower, I saw the perfect opportunity. It was just around the time Nina would be asleep, waiting for me to contact her through a spirit dream. I didn’t have to be asleep for that, simply in a meditative state.

I sat on the bed, calming myself and closing my eyes, calling on just enough spirit to reach across the dream world to Nina. My tranquil state was shattered, however, when I heard a scream from the bathroom. I opened my eyes and tore across the room, flinging the door open.

“Adrian, look out!” cried Sydney.

A small, furry black form leapt off the counter, landing right on my chest. Out of instinct, I swatted it off. It landed on the floor and went scurrying off across the room. Sydney, wrapped in a towel, stepped out and stood beside me.

“I think it went under the bed,” she said.

“That thing better not get on me again,” I muttered, walking gingerly over to the edge of the bed.

You’ve faced much worse than this, Aunt Tatiana said scornfully. Stop being foolish.

Sydney followed, and when I lifted a corner of the bed frame up, she waved her hand in what I recognized as a gesture for casting spells. Seconds later, I felt a breeze stir and blow under the bed. Moments later, the squirrel—Cashew, I presumed—came tearing out and began frantically racing around the room. Sydney, courageously overcoming her earlier shock, darted over to the door that led to the porch and opened it. After a few circuits of the room, the squirrel noticed and ran out. Sydney slammed the door shut behind him, and for several seconds, we both just stood there.

“Why,” she asked at last, “can’t anything ever just be simple for us?”

“Look at you,” I teased, walking over to her. “Fearlessly vanquishing Cashew the Deranged Squirrel.”

“I wasn’t so fearless initially,” she admitted. “Not when he jumped out at me when I was about to get in the shower.”

I pulled her to me, suddenly very aware of how little she was wearing and how gorgeous she looked—even after a close call with a squirrel. “Hey, you were braver than me. And look, you did it all without losing that towel.”