When they got off the train in Queens, the sun was hot and bright in the sky, covering everything in a kind of golden haze. Kids were playing in the parks and parking lots; parents and teenagers chatted and laughed on stoops. The fire department had opened a hydrant, and a group of little boys ran screaming through the spray. A man in an exo suit clomped down the sidewalk, but stopped to help another man carry a couch into an apartment building. The exos were huge and clumsy, and it was difficult to maneuver in them, but Theo knew that one day, someone would develop a suit just as light as clothes, or maybe lighter. One day, people might have exos installed just under the skin, so that that they could lift ten times more and run ten times faster. Faster, even, than a silverfish.

Since none of them wanted to rot inside on a day like this, they sat at Aunt Esther’s small patio in the backyard. Jaime took Ono out of his pocket and set him in the middle of the table. Lance brought them a tray of cookies and milk, and for a little while, they all pretended that nobody’s pets were missing and there was no puzzle to solve. Theo wasn’t sure what he wanted out of the puzzle anymore. It wasn’t to save his home; his home was here now. And though he still felt a little thrill every time they worked out a clue, he also felt a little chill. He had seen how dangerous, how destructive the Cipher could be. Who knows what else it had up its sleeve?

At this thought, Theo jammed a whole cookie in his mouth. He was thinking like Tess.

“Theo, maybe take human bites?” said Tess.

“What?”

“You weren’t listening, were you?”

“I was listening.”

“What was I saying, then?”

“These cookies could use a touch of salt,” said Theo.

“I did not say that.”

“No, I’m saying that. These cookies could use a touch of salt.”

“Don’t tell the suit of armor that,” Jaime said.

“You’ve been watching those baking shows again, haven’t you?” Tess said, pointing at him with a shard of cookie.

“They’re informative,” Theo said.

“As I was saying,” Tess apparently continued, “Aunt Esther has a bunch of foam cylinders in the attic. All different sizes. We could try those.”

“Good idea. Let’s do that after we finish the cookies,” Jaime said.

“If we keep eating them, Lance will just keep baking them,” said Theo.

“And this is a problem for you?” Jaime said. He turned in the direction of the kitchen window. “THANK YOU, LANCE. THESE COOKIES ARE PERFECT—THEY DON’T NEED SALT OR ANYTHING.”