Your mother. Was this whole thing Casey’s way to pass his time in exile at his aunt’s? To make the week more interesting? To take his mind off his parents’ problems? Was it just a game to him?

Or was something else happening? Some impossible, wonderful, improbable cosmic convergence? A glimpse into an alternative reality, a parallel universe? Through her flawed understanding of the world, could she make this—her mother—possible?

She knew she wouldn’t tell anyone. Especially her father and even Mrs. O’Brien. She didn’t want anyone explaining it, making it untrue, pointing out the absurdity of it.

“Are you ready?” asked Casey.

“Ready? For what?”

Seconds ticked past. “I think we should follow her. Come on. Let’s go find Epiphany.”

14 • The Wind

Reluctantly, Amelia set off after Casey—out the door and down the street. They went in the direction Epiphany had gone, in pursuit of the flash of her cantaloupe jacket. It was very windy now, as if something had been stirred up. My mother, Amelia thought. Epiphany. That’s what—who—had been stirred up.

The jacket was like a bright flag ahead of them.

A blast of wind rushed Amelia’s face and she gulped air. For a giddy, dizzying moment, she imagined she’d breathed in the ghostly essence of her mother. And then she felt she might faint at the thought of it. She’d lost her inner balance.

“Hurry,” called Casey.

“Coming.” She didn’t know if this following business was a good idea.

Casey was walking so fast she had to quicken her pace to keep up with him. Boldly, she grabbed his arm to slow him down, startling herself. And him, too, it seemed. They froze for a second, then moved on. Their arms were linked for several strides before dropping.

Amelia welled up with confusion. She didn’t know what she wanted to happen. If they caught up to Epiphany, what would they say to her? What would they do? The whole thing—the strangeness of it—was too much. Her poor brain was twisted up like a pretzel.

They turned the same corner Epiphany had, but she’d disappeared. And then when they reached the next corner, they looked in every direction. Epiphany was nowhere to be seen.

After a moment of complete stillness, Casey said, “Gone.”

Amelia nibbled on the inside of her cheek.

“Maybe,” said Casey, “she really is a ghost. She vanished.”

“Maybe she’s just a woman,” said Amelia. “Some woman who has nothing to do with me.”

“No,” said Casey. “Absolutely not.”

They wandered around the neighborhood, turning their heads, looking here and there, but it seemed to Amelia that the chase was over, which made her glad somehow. Several times Amelia thought she heard someone plaintively say her name. But it wasn’t Epiphany calling for her daughter; it was the brakes of a passing truck and a squeaky garage door and the wind playing tricks, messing with her head.

The first time she’d heard her name, she’d said, “Did you hear that?” Her voice was both shy and urgent.