“We can’t get in?” she said, trying her best to sound disappointed.

“Patience, grasshopper,” Jordan replied.

Everyone else laughed, so Annabelle did, too.

“Got a plan B?” Connor asked.

“Let me think about it,” Jordan said.

Connor narrowed his green eyes and tapped his chin to show he was thinking. “I have an idea. If Hummingbird’s game.”

And boom, Annabelle’s heart thudded against her rib cage. “Sure,” she said, even though she had no clue what he was about to suggest.

Connor put one hand on either side of her waist, and she let out a yelp as he lifted her off the ground. Hanging there in the air, she was aware of every individual rib his fingers touched.

“Yeah, she weighs nothing,” he said, setting her down. “Plus, look how long her arms are. If we lift her up high enough to grab onto the top, she can pull herself over and let the rest of us in.”

The breeze had cooled down enough that Kayla and Ruby had both put on sweatshirts, but warmth spread throughout Annabelle’s body. Kayla’s forehead crinkled up with concern, but Annabelle didn’t let that bother her. She felt dainty and desirable and important. Connor needed her for this plan. Everybody did.

Connor stood on Annabelle’s left side, and Jordan stepped up to her right. They counted, “One, two, three,” and then Annabelle was in the air, higher than when only Connor had lifted her. They pushed her toward the fence, and her elbow banged against an iron bar.

“Grab on!” someone called, and Annabelle tried to ignore the brief, clanging pain in her arm. She reached out and up—her fingertips grazed the top bar, but she wasn’t high enough to grab on.

“I can’t quite . . .” she started, and Connor and Jordan grunted as they heaved her higher—high enough so that she could see over the fence, into the yard. She pushed herself forward, hooking her arms over the top. She winced as one of the pointy iron pillars scraped her right forearm, but as she adjusted her grip, she yelled out, “Got it!”

And right then, the security alarm started blaring, drowning out her voice.

Chapter 19

“Run!” a girl’s voice screamed. Ruby, it sounded like. Then there were footsteps. Lots of them, pounding away from Annabelle.

“I thought you said the security system was broken!” Connor said.

“It was!”

Jordan’s laugh blared over the screeching alarm, like this was all some kind of joke. He let go of Annabelle, taking off after the others, and her right shoulder dipped without his support.

Then Connor said, “We’ve gotta get out of here. Come back down!”

And he let go, too. As if she could slide down the iron fence and follow. He must have thought she could. He wouldn’t have stepped away if he hadn’t. But she was up too high.

She let go with one arm—the scratched-up right one, with its sore elbow. She reached for something lower down that she could hang on to, but her fingertips only hit air. Her left arm ached from holding all her weight. Maybe the ground wasn’t so far away after all. If she let herself drop, she’d probably land on her feet.