Finally, they arrived at their station. They walked the rest of the way to Aunt Esther’s modest house, now Theo’s and Tess’s as well. The twins’ aunt Esther was a small, sturdy woman of indiscriminate age who had worked every kind of job and traveled all around the globe amassing the unusual items that decorated her home. And her home was as unique as she was. Jaime perked up when they entered, delighted by all the masks and the weird puppets and the plants and the tiny mechanical spiders that kept those plants pruned and watered. As much as it had pained them to move from 354 W. 73rd Street to Queens, Theo had to admit Aunt Esther’s house was pretty cool. And so was Aunt Esther.

“Ah, you’re back,” Aunt Esther said, as they piled through the door. “Luckily, I have just plated some Fig Newtons.”

Nine meowed plaintively.

“Stop complaining,” said Aunt Esther. “You know I have treats for you, too, Nine Eighty-Seven.”

“About that . . . ,” said Tess.

“The treats? They are one hundred percent organic. I get them from a small shop in Kansas. I do miss Kansas. Did I tell you about the time I worked as a wheat thresher? One does enjoy a good threshing.”

“No, I was talking about Nine’s name,” said Tess.

“A perfectly suitable name,” said Aunt Esther briskly, setting the plate of cookies on the dining room table. She had to shoo several silver spiders away, and they giggled as they scooted from the tabletop and scattered on the floor. Nine pawed at them, and they giggled some more.

“Did you name Nine?” Jaime asked, already on his second cookie.

“Me? Oh no. She already had a name when I picked her up,” Aunt Esther said. She held up a pitcher. “Lemonade?”

“Yes, thank you,” said Jaime. “So who named her?”

“Why, I’m not sure,” said Aunt Esther. “Perhaps she named herself.”

Theo tried not to roll his eyes, failed.

“I see you and your cynical eyeballs, Theodore,” Aunt Esther said, plunking a glass of lemonade in front of him. “They’re going to get stuck that way.”

“No, they won’t,” said Theo.

“They could,” said Aunt Esther. “Stranger things have happened, as you well know.” She reached into her pocket, pulled out a small, fish-shaped treat. She tossed it to Nine, who caught it in her mouth. “Cats have a very strong sense of self. Have you ever noticed that when their people name them things the cats don’t approve of, they refuse to respond? What kind of creature with any dignity would answer to Floofykins or Boo Boo?”

Jaime took a long sip of lemonade, swallowed. “I don’t know, I’m kind of partial to Boo Boo.”

“Boo Boo?” said Theo.

“Perhaps you’re right. Something banal like Mittens or Patches would be much worse.” Aunt Esther shivered, as if the thought of banality were perfectly dreadful.