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Back The Copycat Save as PDF
Chapters (68)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. Epigraph
  4. One
  5. Two
  6. Chapter One
  7. Three
  8. Four
  9. Five
  10. Six
  11. Chapter Two
  12. Seven
  13. Eight
  14. Nine
  15. Chapter Three
  16. Ten
  17. Eleven
  18. Chapter Four
  19. Twelve
  20. Thirteen
  21. Fourteen
  22. Chapter Five
  23. Fifteen
  24. Sixteen
  25. Chapter Six
  26. Seventeen
  27. Eighteen
  28. Nineteen
  29. Chapter Seven
  30. Twenty
  31. Twenty-One
  32. Twenty-Two
  33. Chapter Eight
  34. Twenty-Three
  35. Twenty-Four
  36. Twenty-Five
  37. Chapter Nine
  38. Twenty-Six
  39. Twenty-Seven
  40. Chapter Ten
  41. Twenty-Eight
  42. Twenty-Nine
  43. Thirty
  44. Thirty-One
  45. Chapter Eleven
  46. Thirty-Two
  47. Thirty-Three
  48. Thirty-Four
  49. Thirty-Five
  50. Chapter Twelve
  51. Thirty-Six
  52. Thirty-Seven
  53. Thirty-Eight
  54. Chapter Thirteen
  55. Thirty-Nine
  56. Forty
  57. Forty-One
  58. Forty-Two
  59. Chapter Fourteen
  60. Forty-Three
  61. Forty-Four
  62. Forty-Five
  63. Forty-Six
  64. Forty-Seven
  65. Chapter Fifteen
  66. The Following Summer
  67. About the Author
  68. About the Publisher

There was still a huge problem: she couldn’t change back and walk in the front door. Digger might see her and make her go back to school. No, the only one way to get into the house unseen was via the tree next to Gigi’s window. Thanks to her Rottweiler experience, it was an easy climb. When she reached the branch across from Gigi’s window, she took a deep breath and jumped, hoping Gigi was asleep.

She was. Ali the cat crept across the room, thankful the bedroom door was ajar.

“Hello, Ali.”

Ali froze. “Gigi?” she whispered, but it came out as “Mrow.”

“I hope you had a good day.” Gigi rolled over and went back to sleep.

Relieved, Ali hurried to her bedroom. She’d hide in her closet until school was over, then sneak downstairs and pretend she’d just arrived home. Simple. Except nothing was simple anymore, and probably never would be again.

Chapter Twelve

Fog Treasures

Mrs. Mabel McLaughlin of Maces Bay once discovered a full casket of wine on the shore in front of her home after three days of thick fog. Alexander MacLeod of St. Andrews wrote in his diary in 1931 that he’d found three barrels of gunpowder and a brass bowl after a week of fog.

—PERCIVAL T. SLOANE,

A History of Fog in the Bay of Fundy (1932)

Thirty-Six

When Ali pretended to arrive home an hour later, she found Digger at the kitchen table. She was surprised to see party invitations and envelopes, along with Gigi’s address book, in front of him.

“Weren’t those supposed to be mailed last week?”

Digger was sheepish. “I forgot. I’m almost finished, and then I’ll deliver them before supper. Most are for the neighbors since so many of Gigi’s friends are no longer alive.”

“I guess that’s what happens when you live to be one hundred,” said Ali. It must be sad when all your friends pass away. Not that Ali knew anything about friends. She leaned over his shoulder, surprised when she saw whose name he was writing on the envelope: Andrew Sloane.

“You’re dropping off an invitation for Andrew Sloane?”

“She wants me to invite all the Other Sloanes, so I am.”

A contrite Ali took a seat across the table. “I need to tell you something, and you’re not going to like it.”

Digger stopped writing. “What?”

“I went to see Andrew Sloane on Sunday afternoon.”

“Without asking permission.”

Ali nodded. “I know I should have asked you first, but I knew you’d say no.”

“I would have.”

“I had to go. Alfie was sure he’d agree to come if I asked him.”

“Let me guess. He said no.”

Just thinking of their conversation made Ali’s eyes well up. “He said more than no. He said our powers are unnatural. He said you and Gigi killed Teddy. And Alfie told me how it happened.”