Owen laughs. “But that’s the point.”

I shrug, but find myself smiling. “I guess.”

“Hm.” He frowns a little and looks down at his phone. I worry I’ve totally said the wrong thing, but then he looks up at me and smiles. “I’m going to find a song you’ll really like. Just wait.”

“Okay.” I smile even wider.

Mia rushes in right before practice starts. “What’d I miss?” she says.

“Owen’s song.”

She looks at me and then at Owen. “What?”

“Nothing,” I say, but Owen and I exchange another smile. My stomach is all fizzy again, but this time, it doesn’t bother me.

Coach Pearlman starts practice by laying out our chances of making the regional playoffs. It doesn’t look great, but he’s trying to motivate us that if we have a really strong match against Liberty Terrace Middle School, we’ll still have a shot.

“So on that note, I’ve made a list of practice questions that reflect our biggest areas of weakness. I want to run through them.”

He divides us up to scrimmage. Like usual, it’s seventh graders versus eighth graders. Peter Tolbin starts out by getting three questions right in a row. He and Molly high-five while Mia and I exchange a frustrated look. Owen looks more nervous than frustrated.

“Come on,” Mia says. “We have to at least get one.”

And we do get one. The next question is about bees and I get it right. And the one after that is a math equation that I’m able to solve before Peter or Molly. Before I know it, I’m on a roll.

I keep reaching for the buzzer and getting the answers right.

“Good job, Hamed,” Coach Pearlman says before he gives us a short break.

“Seriously,” Mia says. “Good job. You’re on fire today.”

I grin. “Thanks.”

Mia looks at me. “You seem different. Or, I mean you seem regular. Like the old you is back.”

I shrug. “I’m able to focus today.”

What I don’t say is that I’m this close to saving to my sister—that I’m about to find a wormhole and change everything.

“Well, I like Cora,” Mia says.

“Me too.”

“Hey,” Owen says. He hands me an earbud again. “Listen to this.”

I put it in and hear a softer melody. I think it’s a piano, but I’m not sure. Whoever is singing has a silky voice. I bob my head along.

“You like it?” Owen says.

I nod. “Yeah. It’s nice.”

He pumps his fist in the air. “See! I knew I would find your song.”

I smile. I can’t wait to tell Mabel about the song. I can’t wait to tell Mabel about everything.

Twenty-Six

Quinn

Dear Parker,

I miss kicking the soccer ball around with you. I miss when Dad would join us, too.

Dad says our family can’t afford to make any more mistakes.

I think we’ve already made too many mistakes.

And I’m worried it’s a mistake to miss you. But I can’t help it.