I look at Honey, look into her eyes, and see a clarity that I wish I could have. I know she had it just as bad as I did—Joe told me about it, how it made a connection between us. Two Children of the Secret. It was what let her find me the last time, when no one else could. But she’s dealt with it.

We should go, she says. She gives Del’s body a meaningful look. Before he comes back.

I know she’s right. Del will come back. He’ll get up and be just the same as he was. Or maybe he’ll come back all bloody, his head dangling from a broken neck like some zombie in a horror flick.

“Go where?” I ask.

This world was closed until he . . . died. It’s open now. I don’t know how long it will last, but right now, we can leave.

“And then what? Nothing will have changed.”

I don’t know. Maybe Joe will be able to figure something out. But we need to leave.

“I can’t,” I say, even as I’m nodding in agreement.

I know she’s right. But I can’t leave the pieces of what had once been Geordie scattered across the room where he’d died.

“Not without Geordie,” I add.

You want to bring his body? Lizzie asks.

“I can’t leave it here. If we—” No, that’s not right. I amend it to: “When we find a way to put everything back to normal, we’ll need it.”

Because that’s the little thread of hope that I’m hanging on to. Without it, I’ve got nothing. Without it, Geordie’s dead and gone forever. But there’s magic in the world.

Once upon a time . . .

We just need help.

If we can find someone to give Lizzie back her mouth and return us both to our proper ages, then they’ll be able to bring Geordie back, too.

It has to work that way.

Once upon a time . . .

Is he a little kid, too? Lizzie asks.

I shake my head. “Not exactly.”

I take hold of the banister and pull myself to my feet. I give Del’s body a last glance—still dead—and lead the way into the bedroom. Lizzie and Honey follow me, Honey’s nails clicking on the wooden floor.

I know what they see when we step inside. An empty room except for the old bed with the mattress on it. And the mess of dirt and leaves and twigs that is all that’s left of Geordie.

Where . . . where is he? Lizzie asks.

I point to the debris.

But . . .

“Del turned him into this thing made of leaves and dirt and then kicked him apart.”

Lizzie just stands in the doorway, staring. Honey pads slowly into the room, her gaze taking in the mess that Del left on the floor.