Lisa folded her arms and shook her head, her eyes set in a disapproving stare. “And to think I used to change your diaper.”

Tick barked a fake laugh. “Uh, sis, you’re two years older than me—pretty sure you never changed my diaper.”

“I was very advanced for my age. Skilled beyond my years.”

“Yeah, you’re a regular Mozart—well, except for the whole music thing.”

Mom put her hands on her hips. “You two are just about the silliest kids I’ve ever—” A loud buzz from the kitchen cut her off. “Ah, the cookies are done.” She turned and scuttled off toward the kitchen.

Kayla screamed something unintelligible then ran after her mom with a huge smile planted on her face, dropping tea cups all over the floor and hallway.

Tick looked at Lisa and shrugged. “At least she’s not burning things.” Kayla had been caught several times at the living room fireplace, laughing with glee as she destroyed important objects in the flames. Tick headed for the staircase. “I’ll be back in a minute—gotta use the bathroom.”

“Thanks for sharing that bit of exciting news,” Lisa quipped as she followed Kayla toward the kitchen.

Tick had his hand on the banister when his mom called back for him. “Oh, I almost forgot. You got a letter in the mail today. It’s on your bed.”

“Ooh, maybe it’s a love letter,” Lisa said, blowing a kiss at Tick.

Tick ignored her and ran up the stairs.

~

The bed squeaked as Tick flopped down next to his pillow where a tattered yellow envelope rested, his full name—Atticus Higginbottom—and address scrawled across it in messy handwriting. The stamp was an old picture of the Eiffel Tower but the postmark smeared on top of it said, “Macadamia, Alaska.” The upper left corner of the envelope had no return address. He picked up the envelope and flipped it over—nothing there either. Curious, he stared at the mysterious letter for a moment, racking his brain. Who could possibly have written him from the state of Alaska? No one came to mind.

He wedged his finger under the sealed flap on the back and ripped the envelope open. A simple rectangle of white cardstock that barely fit in the envelope held a long message on one side, typed by what appeared to be an old-fashioned typewriter. Baffled, Tick pulled the card out and began to read.

Dear Master Atticus,

I am writing to you in hopes that you will have the courage of heart and the strength of mind to help me in a most dreadful time of need. Things are literally splitting apart at the seams, as it were, and I must find those who can assist me in some very serious matters.