There was a time when we looked enough alike that we could be mistaken for each other. But that was before the accident. We don’t stand at all the same anymore. And she’s done something new with her hair. It’s short and she’s had it straightened. It looks good on her and I say as much.

“Yeah, yeah,” she tells me, but she smiles to take the sting out of it. “I’m a regular prom queen. You mind telling me where we are? Because I’ve got an idea, and I don’t much care for it.”

“It’s the old house,” I confirm.

“And we’re here with that piece of crap because . . . ?”

She indicates Del with the blade of her knife.

“It’s a long story,” I say.

“Well, considering I was sleeping peacefully in my bed a few minutes ago, so I’m probably dreaming now, I’d guess we have all the time in the world.”

I nod. “Just a sec’. I want to try something.”

When I reached out for Raylene and brought her here, I could feel myself tapping into the essence of this place—the way that Del does, I guess, to make the things he does happen. So I try it again.

Once upon a time . . .

Once upon a time, there was a girl who looked Broken, but she’d always left out milk and honeycakes for the good spirits, and so one day they took pity on her and made her whole again.

“Whoa,” Raylene says.

I smile and straighten up from the wall. I’m like I was when I first entered the otherworld what feels like centuries ago. Has it only been a day? But I’m unbroken again. Twenty-something and strong. If we had a mirror, I’m sure that Raylene and I would look almost the same except for our hair.

“Nice trick,” she says. “I take it we’re not in Kansas anymore.”

I shake my head. “No, we’re definitely in Oz. Or at least the Carter version of Oz.”

“I’m still waiting on that explanation,” she says.

“I know. Just let me do one more thing.”

I look at Del.

Once upon a time, I think, there was an evil brother who made life miserable for his sisters. But one day they defeated him and whenever he had a bad thought after that, leather cords appeared and bound him hand to foot so that he couldn’t move and do anybody any harm.

And there Del is, all tied up.

I could get so used to this.

“I think you can put your knife away,” I tell Raylene.

She studies Del for a long moment, then slowly nods. I see her thumb push the release button, and she flicks the blade back into its handle. She stows it in the pocket of her jacket.