But even so, that night and the next day, he felt restless, edgy, unsettled. Like he was going somewhere he wasn’t sure he was supposed to go. Like he might find something out that he didn’t want to know.

After school, he hurried in the direction of the bike rack, where Faye was going to meet him. He was at the top of the school steps when he heard Tomás’s voice.

“Hey, Wunder!” he called. “Wait up! I thought we could go to Oak Park. Play some soccer. What do you think?”

Wunder turned to see his best friends coming toward him. “Soccer?” This was another thing Tomás had started doing this year—asking to play soccer. Aside from a few halfhearted attempts at catch with his father—neither of them being particularly athletic—Wunder had never been interested in sports. He shook his head. “I can’t. Sorry, Tomás.”

“Or we could go to the Snack Shack,” Tomás said. “Come on, Wunder. It’s been me and Davy forever.”

Davy had come up next to Tomás. “And what about the Unexplainable and Inexplicable Phenomenon Society?” he asked. “When are we going to have another meeting?”

“Never,” Wunder said, louder and more forcefully than he had intended. Davy flinched. Wunder thought about apologizing or maybe explaining, but then he didn’t.

Down at the bike rack, Faye had appeared. She held up one black-gloved hand.

“I have to go now,” Wunder told his friends. “I have some things to do.”

Tomás stared, goggle-eyed, at Faye. Her black cloak billowed. Her eyes were black smudges. “With her?”

“Yes,” Wunder said. “With her.”

He didn’t say the rest of what he was thinking. He didn’t say that Faye had asked him about his sister, that Faye knew his sister’s name. He didn’t think Tomás knew his sister’s name. He didn’t even think Davy did. He shoved his hands in his pockets and headed down the stairs.

“But, Wunder,” Davy called after him, “I wanted to tell you something! It’s about my paper route!”

Wunder used to help Davy with his deliveries on Sundays, when he had the most. They would take their bikes, cutting through the woods—which Davy would do only if Wunder was with him—talking about the latest miracles and tossing paper after paper.

“I can’t help anymore, Davy,” Wunder said.

He didn’t turn back around.

Faye had brought her bike that day, so after she tied her cloak in a huge, velvety knot to keep it from getting caught in the wheels, they both rode to the town hall. Wunder stayed a little ahead the whole way so he wouldn’t have to talk.

“I go to church here,” Faye told him as they leaned their bikes against the rack next to the fountain.

“In the town hall? Is that allowed?” Wunder asked. “What about separation of church and state?”

“We rent a public meeting hall in the basement,” Faye said. “It’s a very small, exclusive church. You have to speak Korean to attend, so don’t even ask. You’re not invited.”