Trying my hardest not to become emotional—because at that moment it truly felt like there was nothing I could do to save myself or Mischa—I asked, “If I did actually get Mischa’s soul locked out of her body, is there any way to put it back in?”

“Of course there is. But you’d best make it a more hospitable environment before you try.”

If Mrs. Robinson said it was possible to rectify this situation, I had to believe her and try—as she liked to say—my best. Although I didn’t know her well, I could tell she wasn’t the type of person to placate me just because I was young. She assured me that when it came to voodoo, there was always a way to undo what could be done… except, of course, bringing the dead back to life. And even after saying that, she hesitated, but then perhaps thought it wise not to continue.

I said good-bye after thanking her again and tapped to end our call. At least it kind of sounded like Mrs. Robinson was enjoying herself. Since it didn’t seem like her daughter much appreciated her religious beliefs or knowledge of occult practices, it might have been a long while since she’d had an opportunity to advise anyone on these kinds of things.

The clock on the wall overhead in the seating area gave the time as ten after six. I pressed my fingertips to my forehead, wishing with all my heart that I could just go home, climb into bed, and wait for Trey to tap on my window. But my bedroom was gone. Every single thing I’d ever owned and loved—music boxes, teddy bears, books—was gone. Trey would never climb through my window again.

Trey.

I had to find a way to warn him. Glenn had a sister in Green Bay, and there was a good chance that either she or Mom would head over to his house to grab some of his things. This meant that on top of the Mischa mess, I was also going to have to figure out another place for him to hide while I developed a new strategy.

But if I dawdled in the cafeteria for too long, Mom might have freaked out in light of everything else going on, so I ordered a turkey sandwich for her and leaned against a column while it was being prepared. After popping my earbuds back into my ears, I tapped the radio app on my phone to see if Jennie was really back. As expected, all I heard at first was static. Trying not to get upset just yet, I tapped the volume buttons on my phone to spare my ears from the crackling, and then said, “Hello?”

“Mayo?” the guy behind the counter asked as he built Mom’s sandwich.

“Please,” I said, and then I heard garbled words on the radio that ended with, “… house is gone!”

“Jennie?” I cried out, ecstatic to hear her voice again. I’d blurted out her name so loudly that the sandwich guy shot me a look over the counter. But I didn’t care if he thought I was being rude; I believed I only stood a chance at fixing the mess I’d made and preventing my own death if I had Jennie’s help. “Were you able to see what happened?”