“Um, I don’t know. The story doesn’t say. Hunger maybe?”

“Or maybe she got eaten by a wolf. That happens in forests, you know.”

I look around and shudder. “Thanks for the reminder.”

“Well, I’m glad they got home,” Jonah says.

“Me too,” I say.

“Oh, no!” Gretel says up ahead. She comes running back to us, Hansel behind her.

Her face is pale. “The bread crumbs are gone!” she cries.

Um, yep. I so called that. At least we didn’t mess up the story.

“Did YOU eat the bread crumbs?” Hansel asks, narrowing his eyes at Jonah. “You did, didn’t you?”

“My brother wouldn’t eat food off the ground!” I yell. Then I remember his lollipop comment earlier, and try again. “My brother wouldn’t eat bread crumbs off the ground!”

“Yeah, why would I eat bread crumbs from the dirt?” Jonah asks. “That’s gross.”

“Maybe your dog did it,” Gretel says, glaring at Prince.

“Prince doesn’t like bread,” Jonah answers, bending down to pat Prince’s head. “He likes cheese. Cheese crumbs he would have gone for.”

“It was probably the birds,” I offer.

It was one hundred percent the birds.

“Oh, yeah,” Gretel says, looking up. “The birds. We forgot about the birds.”

“But now we’ll never find our way home!” Hansel says, his eyes filling with tears.

Gretel wraps her arms around him and pats him on the back.

“What do we do?” Jonah whispers to me.

I glance at my watch. Oh, wow. It’s 3:11 A.M. in Smithville. Time is definitely passing much slower here than it is at home. I’m pretty sure it’s passing twice as slow. But how can I check? I guess I can count. “Quiet for a second, ’kay?” I tell my brother. “I need to check something.” When my watch changes to three twelve, I start to count. One Mississippi, two Mississippi, three Mississippi … When I reach thirty, my watch changes to three thirteen. So I’m definitely right. One minute at home is thirty seconds here. Every half hour here is an hour at home. That means my parents will be up in less than four Smithville hours, which is only two hours here. AHHHH!

“I think we need to send them off to the witch’s house and then start looking for the portal home,” I whisper to Jonah.

“Isn’t it bad to send them to the witch?” Jonah whispers back.

“I don’t think so,” I say nervously. “At least we know they outsmart her. And then they get her jewels and live happily ever after.”

“True,” Jonah says. “Can we walk with them until they get there at least? Maybe we’ll get to see the cake house!” He leans closer to me. “And taste it?”

I consider. “We’ll have to assess the situation. But … maybe one teensy piece of roof won’t hurt anything.”

Don’t we deserve it? Our parents did make us miss dessert.

And I bet the cake house is much, much yummier than a measly piece of fruitcake.