“I really do not want to do this,” said Jess.
Willa said, “Think of it as giving her a shot. She’s going to wake up. This is all going to be over.”
Jess’s sad eyes said it all: she didn’t believe Willa. She may have wanted to, but she didn’t.
“We’re going to wait here,” Finn said, “for the good news.”
“You can’t stay,” Jess said. “Mrs. Nash is inside. Supposedly I’m putting out the trash,” she said, indicating the bulging plastic bag at her feet. “I can’t do this until later. I’ll e-mail you,” she said to Finn, “depending what works out.”
“You’ll let us know right away?” he asked.
“As soon as I can.”
“We’ll be waiting,” Finn said.
“Yes. I know that.” She thanked them both.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Willa asked, deeply concerned.
“She’s so still, so…”
Dead-looking, Finn thought. He’d carried her. He knew.
“It’ll be over soon,” Finn said. “She’s going to be fine. Reverse the curse.”
“I hope you’re right.”
Jess disposed of the sack of garbage, slipped the two spindles down her pants to hide them, and returned inside.
“She’s bad off,” Willa said.
“Yes. I noticed.”
With everyone back in the car and Mrs. Whitman driving, she dropped Maybeck off first. Once outside the car, he leaned back in and gave Willa a hug.
“You were great tonight.”
“You, too.”
He ran down the driveway and was gone.
Willa was next. She sneaked around the house to slip inside. There was no car in the drive; thankfully, she’d beaten her mother home. Then came Charlene, whose mother waved to Mrs. Whitman from the front door.
“Dillard Cole,” Mrs. Whitman said, “does your mother know where you’ve been?”
“Ah…”
“He’s been over at our house,” Finn said. “Kinda.”
“That’s what I thought,” said Mrs. Whitman.
Finn stopped his friend with a hand on the shoulder. “Dude, you were awesome tonight.” Finn smiled. “Just don’t ever do it again.”
“It was way cool.”
Dillard said good night and headed inside.
“It’s nice you two are connecting again.”
“Mom, don’t get all mushy on me.”
“It’s Amanda,” his mother said to Finn. “You contacted Jess, so it must be Amanda.”
“It is,” Finn said. Long ago, he’d promised never to lie to his parents, and he worked daily to keep that promise. He could, and did, stretch the truth when needed, but he never outright lied.
“You needed something from the Park to help her.”
“Yes.”
“Did you get it?”
“We think so, yes.”
“So you stole something from Epcot.”
“Borrowed.”
“Finn?”
“Borrowed. We will return them. I promise.”
“Them,” his mother said.
She was way too smart. He couldn’t give her this kind of data to work with. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you, Mom. We should leave it at that.”
“I believe a lot more than your father believes.”
“I know that.”
“Speaking of which, you let me handle your father when we get home. Go along with whatever I say.”
“Aye, aye,” Finn said.
“And don’t try anything without telling me first. We’re in this together now, Finn, like it or not.”
Not, Finn thought, but didn’t say. “Okay,” he answered.
His mother tried too hard with her explanation. She would never make a spy. Finn’s father gave him the corner-of-the-eye look that typically made Finn feel like running straight to the bathroom. Instead, he shrank off to his room feeling troubled, the sound of the blade coming for his neck still fresh in his ears. What if he’d misjudged his sense of all clear? What if the all clear had expired more quickly?
* * *
The simplicity of Jess’s e-mail message compounded Finn’s pain.
It didn’t work. Thanks for trying.
He stared at the computer screen as if by just looking it might change the message.
Neither spindle had worked. What a stupid idea it had been! Finn had been so convinced that reversing the curse would do it.
He convened an emergency video conference. Philby, Willa, and Maybeck were able to attend. Charlene’s mother had turned off the family Wi-Fi for the night, so she followed along on the family’s landline telephone, with random updates from Willa.
Philby said, “I thought one of the spindles would work. I have to tell you, the more I thought about it, the more it made sense.”