Aunt Esther appeared in the doorway to the kitchen. “What will keep you busy enough?”

“Helping you with dinner, Ms. Esther,” said Jaime.

Aunt Esther beamed. “You are always such a gentleman, Mr. Jaime. I was thinking of putting together a lasagna.”

“That’s convenient, because I love lasagna,” Jaime said.

“Then you’ll have to stay and eat with us. Why don’t you call your grandmother and ask her.”

Theo wondered what it must be like, to have a gift for people, to say the kinds of things they wanted to hear without ever sounding fake, because you didn’t need to fake things. Theo didn’t fake things, either, but people didn’t always seem to like him for it. Most of the time he didn’t mind, but once in a while, he did.

But he was grateful to Jaime for distracting the counterman from their thievery, distracting Aunt Esther from their conversation, and distracting Tess from her run-in with the banshee. They spent the next two hours in the kitchen with Aunt Esther, helping to chop onions and tomatoes, boiling noodles, layering a giant lasagna into a giant pan. Nine helped by eating the cheese that they accidentally dropped to the floor. And after they had put the lasagna into the oven, Lance helped by serving everyone cookies and milk in the living room. (“Dessert first,” Aunt Esther said. “Dessert always,” said Tess.)

They were in such a good mood, the weirdness of the day pushed to the backs of their minds, that Theo was unprepared for the sudden appearance of his mother, who was supposed to be home much later. When she came into the living room, she didn’t smile, she didn’t say hello, she didn’t comment on the cookie crumbs or the scent of tomato sauce in the air. She put her hands in her pockets and said, “Who wants to tell me what happened today?”

Immediately, Theo thought of the puzzle, how they had stolen it. He opened his mouth, but couldn’t think of a thing.

“You have something you want to say, Theo?”

“I—” he began. But then didn’t know how to finish. Even Jaime seemed at a loss for words, his usual grace erased at the sight of Mrs. Biedermann’s stern expression.

Mrs. Biedermann pulled out her own phone, punched a few buttons. Then she turned it around so they could see. “Maybe this video will jog your memories? It’s all over the internet.”

On the phone they saw the woman shrieking, waving around her bloody arm. And they saw themselves, all four of them, Nine seeming larger than ever.

Tess leaned forward, “Mom, that woman bumped into me. Nine never touched her. She wouldn’t bite anyone like that. The woman was lying.”

Their mother sighed, put the phone back in her pocket. “Why would she lie?”

“I don’t know!” Tess said.