They hated it. Rose was a little afraid, but Jerram suffered the most. One day, he just couldn’t stand it anymore, and he called the psychologist a big ass to his face, grabbed Rose and pulled her out of the playroom before the session time had ended. He and Rose had waited on the corner for their parents, holding hands. Dad spoke to the psychologist and threatened Jerram with a spanking. But Mom said maybe Jerram should be given a chance to tell his side. Jerram made a speech, sitting at the kitchen table, pushing chocolate chip cookies into his mouth and gulping milk.

“He’s scared of us,” Jerram explained, with a big milk mustache around his mouth. “He pretends he’s not, but he really is. He’s afraid Rose-ear and me are gonna read his mind.” Jerram laughed and sprayed milk and cookie crumbs all around.

Mom and Dad had looked at each other in astonishment. Dad cancelled the rest of the appointments and brought home an armload of books on twins. Perhaps their parents had been a little frightened, too. Perhaps the books had helped. But was it all over now? Had they stopped dreaming the same dreams? Jerram was angry in a way Rose didn’t understand. Was he hiding something from her?

The police didn’t believe in dreams. They wanted hard, cold facts. Silver Henning himself came to the house. He brought Detective O’Hara.

“Thought it would be more convenient if we came up here instead of asking the young lady to come to the station,” the chief said to Mom. “More discreet, too.”

“I hardly think it’s discreet to have that car of yours parked out in my driveway,” Mom said. “Sorry, ma’am.”

They wanted to know what Rose knew, not satisfied with what she’d told Detective O’Hara.

“Did you actually see Wallace Romola with Nancy that night?” the chief asked.

“He has nothing to do with all this.”

“Ah, but you did mention him, didn’t you? Now why would you do that?”

“I didn’t mention him; Grace did. It was just a sarcastic remark because she was upset.”

“Upset about what you two knew?”

“Upset with Detective O’Hara.”

The chief raised his eyebrows and looked at O’Hara. She was wearing a suit and silk blouse and gold jewelry — a gold chain, and a gold pin on the lapel. Next to Chief Henning in his scruffy pants and worn leather jacket, she looked cool and elegant.

“I don’t recall saying anything to upset you,” she said to Rose.

“It was what you implied. Or what Grace thought you implied. It bothered her.”

“Just what bothered your friend Grace?” the chief asked.

“I just told you. Detective O’Hara didn’t believe me, and Grace got a little angry.”

“And what exactly was it you told the detective?”