Mom and Dad were still at the table. Kenzie saw only a glimpse of them, and her phone burned a hole in her pocket, promising a clearer, more immediate view of them. She was so used to checking, and she had to work to convince herself there wasn’t a need right now.

They weren’t important now that the damage had been done.

She needed to fix the Victoria problem her parents had made, first.

“They’re okay?” Victoria asked, again.

“That’s a really easy question with a hard answer,” Kenzie said.

Victoria didn’t move.

“They’re not going to get hurt or anything, they’re okay like that,” Kenzie elaborated. Her heart was racing. “But um, if I was going to start explaining, I’d start by saying they’re not okay. There was this time, um, I was talking to Jessica and I said they’re bad people. It’s not that they do bad things, because, duh, they do… it’s more that they’re bad at being people. I said that to Mrs. Yamada once and she liked it.”

“Bad at being people how?”

“Stuff’s missing, I guess. Like it is with me, but different stuff. Um—”

Kenzie’s instinct was to reach for something. This could be fixed, but fixing couldn’t happen on its own. Left on their own, things broke down and one problem became a hundred million problems.

Fixing needed tools. She had lots of tools. It was enough that considering the possibilities made her thoughts a mess. What camera? What perspective or images? What data? What combination came together and made everything mostly okay again?

“I’m on your side,” Victoria said. The statement interrupted Kenzie’s thoughts.

“I know,” Kenzie said. “I wouldn’t have invited you over if you weren’t.”

“Would it help to step away? Go for a walk, maybe?”

Kenzie shook her head. Her workshop was hers. Her tools were close by, and it made her feel more secure.

Tools.

Kenzie jammed her hand into her pocket. Victoria stepped away from the door, toward more open space, like she did any time she wanted to be able to use her wonky forcefield.

She was spooked and weirded out, which was totally, one hundred percent okay. Kenzie knew as well as anyone that her parents could be spooky and that the whole thing could be weird.

“It’s okay,” Kenzie said. “Nothing bad. It’s cards.”

“Cards?”

Kenzie drew the case from her pocket. It had held a chepa sewing kit once, but it was the perfect size to hold three of the memory cards with a foam backing.

“You had that earlier today.”

“Yup,” Kenzie said. She held it out, giving Victoria her best reassuring smile. “Here.”

Victoria took the clear case with the three long cards within. “For the diary?”

Kenzie nodded.

“There’s no paint on these.”

“That’s because I know how it all goes,” Kenzie said.

⊙