Chapter 1

The sound of the rain banging against the window distracted Alyssa from washing her lunch dishes. She stared out the window and watched every drop. What a better way to spend a Thursday noon than to wash dishes. No hard work involved—just looking out the window.
Gone were the happy days of living in her uncle’s house. No more family fun. No more sweets and desserts. Just a structured life of strict and unfair rules. Alyssa longed for a normal and better life—the kind she’d lived before her parents had died in a car crash five years ago. She wanted to be like many children her age, but when would it happen? Not any time soon.
Unless—she could find her godfather’s phone number and call him without her uncle knowing. One of the rules here was that all phone calls had to be earned unless there was an important reason to call someone. She hadn’t talked to him ever since she’d also lost her aunt three years ago. But she still remembered how sweet, fun, and caring he’d been. He even could be her legal guardian since her parents had designated him as one. If she could find his number at some point and ask about moving in with him, her life would be happier.
But now something didn’t seem right with the raindrops, which took Alyssa’s mind off of her godfather. They turned cadet blue. Huh? How could that be? That broke the laws of nature. Too distract her more, though, the cadet blue darkened into a dark grayish blue. What could be going on?
The rain now turned black, looking as if ink fell from the sky. Alyssa leaned closer, squinting her eyes to determine the shapes it formed on the window. The rain formed—letters. What? No. That was impossible. But then a message formed as the rain plopped other parts of the window. What could be causing this? Nature couldn’t be changing its laws, right?
The message finished putting itself together. Alyssa gasped at what it said.

Your life will never be the same, Alyssa McCarthy, as magic will interfere.

What the heck—magic? Alyssa had never believed in magic. She’d even been told at a very young age that magic didn’t exist. But was now the time to change her views on reality? Was now the time to start believing in magic? Who could’ve done all that? No one on Orion Street was a wizard—at least Alyssa thought that ever since she’d moved here five years ago, right after her parents’ deaths.
Turning around, she saw her babysitter, Mrs. Hutchinson, examine the kitchen floor, while her eleven-year-old cousin, Hailey, watched since she had mopped the floor. Would Hailey get a break now? Ever since her uncle, Bruce, had hired Mrs. Hutchinson, she’d liked the way Hailey did her chores better than her.
“Hailey, you can take a break until your next chore,” said Mrs. Hutchinson. “Alyssa, get back to work. You’ve been staring at the rain for too long.”
“Okay.” Alyssa turned back—only to see the message gone and the rain back to its normal transparency. What?
“What did I say?” asked Mrs. Hutchinson.
Alyssa sighed. “Fine, I’ll finish washing the dishes.” She scrubbed her dish and glass with dishwashing soap under warm running water. Her eyes focused on those and that was it. No way would she want Mrs. Hutchinson to catch her looking out the window again. Even though Mrs. Hutchinson was only in her sixties, she had the irritability of a ninety-year-old. But it had taken Hailey and Alyssa a while to realize that she wouldn’t even tolerate the mildest kind of nonsense, such as getting distracted by a windowpane when having to wash dishes.
After she finished washing her dishes, Alyssa put them to the side and got some paper towels to dry them.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Mrs. Hutchinson asked.
Alyssa stopped. “I’m just—”
“The last few times I was here, you’ve left little bits of food in your dishes,” Mrs. Hutchinson reminded her.
“But they were stuck.”
“Let me inspect them. Also, if it’s rubbery, you have to wash it again.”
“Why?”
“Because clean dishes aren’t supposed to be rubbery. And boy, did you do such a sloppy job? Look at that stain on your sweater.”
Alyssa looked down.
“That looks like chocolate,” said Mrs. Hutchinson.
Alyssa blushed and arched her eyebrows. Washing dishes was no slice of peach cobbler. Yet Mrs. Hutchinson just had to embarrass if she were a messy five-year-old child.
“Hey—it’s just water,” Alyssa said, covering the stain at the bottom of her sweater’s V-neck with her hand.
But Mrs. Hutchinson held up her index finger. “Don’t you ‘hey’ me, Alyssa,” she warned, waving her finger. “That’s very rude. In my days kids expected their elders. We never would dare talk to them that way unless we didn’t mind them to smack our bottoms.”
“Things change,” said Alyssa.
“Yeah, yeah,” said Mrs. Hutchinson. “Let me do my inspection.”
Great—an inspection! How long would Mrs. Hutchinson take? She may take a couple of minutes, or maybe twenty minutes. Alyssa crossed her arms and tapped her foot. She wanted her break now. She wanted to read, rest, do a small craft—anything but wait for Mrs. Hutchinson to finish her silly inspection.
“Mrs. Hutchinson,” Alyssa started.
“Whatever, you need to say, wait till I’m done,” she insisted.
Alyssa sighed. She continued to watch Mrs. Hutchinson run her finger down the middle of the front of the dish. She then rubbed it back and forth. When she put it down and nodded, Alyssa figured out that that dish had nothing in it.
After a few minutes of running her finger down the glass, Mrs. Hutchinson put it down and turned to Alyssa. “You’re good. Now what did you want to tell me?”
“Um… if I tell you, can you not give me a hard time?”
“Okay.”
“There was writing on the window.”
Mrs. Hutchinson pursed her lips and tilted her head, as if Alyssa had spoken Ancient Chinese. “Writing?”
“Yeah.”
“Nonsense,” said Mrs. Hutchinson.
“No, really, it was there,” Alyssa said.
“There was nothing here when I came and there’s nothing there right now. So don’t tell me stories.”
“But it’s not a story.”
“I don’t want to hear any more,” said Mrs. Hutchinson. “Now it’s time for your next chore.”
“Aw, but I wanted my break,” said Alyssa.
“Too bad,” said Mrs. Hutchinson. “You have to go vacuum the living room.”
Alyssa dragged her feet towards the living room and took the vacuum from the corner. Vacuuming, she thought about that writing and how Mrs. Hutchinson wouldn’t believe her. Would a nicer babysitter believe her? Mrs. Hutchinson had babysat her and Hailey for three years, and not once, did she smile or use keenness. Alyssa wanted her out of the house.
After vacuuming the carpet for about ten or fifteen minutes, Alyssa decided that it looked clean enough and stopped vacuuming. She put the vacuum away back where it was before.
“Hailey, you and Alyssa need to go get the mail now!” Mrs. Hutchinson called, facing the staircase.
“Coming!” cried Hailey.
Another rule Uncle Bruce had placed on Alyssa and Hailey was they could not go outside by themselves. He worried about people taking them or some animal attacking them, even though they were older. Alyssa would be turning thirteen next month, and childhood would end for her. But that rule had been placed because last month Uncle Bruce had heard about a seventeen-year-old boy who got shot while skateboarding in his neighborhood. It’s happened here in Bursnell, New Jersey.
Hailey and Alyssa treaded to the closet and put on their raincoats until Mrs. Hutchinson said, “It stopped raining outside.”
“Already?” asked Alyssa.
“Yes,” said Mrs. Hutchinson. “I’m going to go to the bathroom.”
The girls walked outside towards the mailbox. Alyssa pulled the mail out of the mailbox and walked back towards the door—only to see some mud bubbling from the ground. It piled up, looking like horse manure, and grew as more mud emerged. Alyssa dropped her jaw and stared at it.
“Alyssa, what’s going on?” Hailey asked.
“No idea,” said Alyssa.
The mud stopped piling, but then continued to bubble, spreading throughout the whole pile. This also had to be caused by magic, because mud couldn’t just bubble on its own.
The bubbles stopped popping up and down. Alyssa and Hailey gasped as they expanded. They kept their mouths open as the bubbles merged together. Each bubble attaching to another bubble formed a still bigger bubble. Alyssa and Hailey stepped back as the now-one giant bubble swelled. And to Alyssa’s horrors… pop!

Particles of exploding mud landed on the girls, causing them to shriek. Then, a few seconds later, the front door opened to reveal a glowering Mrs. Hutchinson.
“What the heck have you two been doing?” she screamed.
“T-the mud… it e-exploded,” explained Hailey.
“Nonsense!” growled Mrs. Hutchinson. “Get inside!”
The girls headed inside, pulling and wiping the mud out of their hair. Alyssa could easily spot mud in her straight pale blonde hair, unlike Hailey, who needed more patience to search for globs in her elbow-length red hair. But Alyssa’s hair fell to her tailbone, a few inches past her hips; so cleaning out the mud would take longer, even with the shorter layers in the front.
“How could dirt explode?” yelled Mrs. Hutchinson, stomping her feet.
“I… I think it was magic!” exclaimed Alyssa.
“There’s no such thing as magic!” screamed Mrs. Hutchinson. “Alyssa, you’re twelve years old. You’re too old to say things like that!”
“But nothing else can make mud explode!” Alyssa pointed out.
“Mrs. Hutchinson, we swear it did!” whined Hailey.
“Enough!” retorted Mrs. Hutchinson. “You and Hailey—go upstairs and take showers!”
Alyssa followed Hailey up the stairs and heaved a sigh. How else would the mud have gotten all over the two of them? Mrs. Hutchinson couldn’t have thought they’d play in the mud. They weren’t small children anymore.
“Alyssa, can I shower first?” asked Hailey.
“Sure,” said Alyssa.
As Hailey strode into the bathroom, Alyssa treaded into her room. She scratched more mud off of her skinny jeans (which she’d only wear ever since they’d come into style) and the back of her left hand.
Standing by her bed, since she didn’t want to get dirt on it, she thought about the writing on the window and the exploding mud. Why did they happen? Someone wanted magic to interfere with her life, but whom, and why?
Also, why didn’t she ever see magic before? Why would her parents and others tell her that magic didn’t exist? Could magic be new to the earth? Had it been hidden somewhere? There had to be some reason why no one ever believed in magic.
Alyssa thought about the possibility that maybe magic would only interfere if she stayed here in her uncle’s house. Maybe she’d be safe if her godfather could arrange with his lawyer to let her move in with him. Or would it? Unlike science, anything could be possible with magic, which meant that magic could follow her wherever she went. How could she find out more about it? Right now, there were no options available.
The sound produced by the shower ended, which let Alyssa know that Hailey had finished. Now she could have a turn. She walked towards the bathroom, as Hailey stepped out with a towel wrapped around her body. After heading inside, she took off her clothes and stepped into the hot shower.

After five minutes Alyssa stepped out and headed back to her room. She put on leggings and a long shirt, but she gasped when something appeared out of nowhere. What on Earth? Now that had to be caused by… magic. Approaching it, she saw that it was a folded piece of paper. She unfolded it and read it.

Hello Alyssa McCarthy,

You must be wondering about the writing on your window, the exploding mud, and the note that appeared here. Who was responsible for them? You’ll find out at some point.

Anonymous

Anonymous? What in the Milky Way—how dare someone create incidents and not say his or her name? To make matters worse, Alyssa didn’t know his or her name, so she couldn’t report him or her to the police. But she needed to know. She didn’t want strange magical occurrences to keep happening. The only way to tell this mysterious person to stop was to find out his or her name.
Regardless of that, now she had proof to Mrs. Hutchinson that the writing and exploding mud had occurred. Mrs. Hutchinson had seen her write before, and this looked nothing like her own handwriting. She wrote in a half-print and half script style. This writing, however, was pure print.
Jogging down the stairs, Alyssa carried the note.
“Mrs. Hutchinson, I have to have something to show you!” she cried.
“Not right now, Alyssa,” said Mrs. Hutchinson, striding out of the kitchen. “You and Hailey have to go wash my car.”
“But it’s quick,” said Alyssa.
“You can show me after you’re done with washing my car,” said Mrs. Hutchinson. She turned to Hailey, who emptied the dishwasher and put dishes away. “Are you almost done?”
“I think so,” said Hailey.
“How many dishes do you have left?” asked Mrs. Hutchinson.
“Uh…” Hailey looked into the top rack. “Four.”
“Okay, hurry up,” Mrs. Hutchinson ordered. She turned to Alyssa. “Why don’t you go put that piece of paper away?”
“But this is what I need to show you,” said Alyssa.
“Do I have to repeat what I said before?” asked Mrs. Hutchinson.
“But—”
“Alyssa, do as you’re told,” demanded Mrs. Hutchinson, pointing at the staircase.
Alyssa sighed. This note contained so much crucial information. It was the only piece of evidence that those incidents happened.
After putting the note back into her room, Alyssa headed down the stairs and walked with Hailey towards the garage. The two of them grabbed sponges, buckets, and soap for washing cars. They filled the buckets with water and soap and then scrubbed Mrs. Hutchinson’s car.
“I wish we had another babysitter,” muttered Alyssa.
“What was on the piece of paper?” asked Hailey.
Alyssa told her.
“Who wrote it?” asked Hailey.
“There was no name on it,” said Alyssa. “Just anonymous.”
The sound of whistling turned Alyssa’s attention away from the car. She leaned her head towards the sidewalk and saw her friend from school, Madison Jennings, ride her scooter.
“Hi, Alyssa,” said Madison, as the wind blew her long dark brown waves across her face. But when she stopped at Alyssa’s driveway, her hair limped. Hailey and Alyssa ran up to greet and ask her how she’d been.
“I just moved onto Draco Drive a few days ago,” said Madison, regarding a street off of Orion Street.
“So how are you liking the middle school?” asked Alyssa.
“Oh, I go to Catholic school now,” said Madison. “What about you?”
“Hailey and I are homeschooled,” said Alyssa.
“Cool,” said Madison. “So you guys want to come over my house on Saturday?”
“What time?” asked Alyssa.
“I’ll ask my mom,” said Madison. “Okay, bye.” She rode away back in the direction she’d come from as Hailey and Alyssa said goodbye to her.
After washing the car for a half an hour longer, Alyssa and Hailey cleaned up and walked back inside. The sound of snoring suggested to Alyssa that Mrs. Hutchinson slept. Huh? Why would she sleep now? She never slept while babysitting.
Striding towards the living room, Alyssa saw Mrs. Hutchinson sleep on one of the couches.
“Why is Mrs. Hutchinson sleeping?” asked Hailey.
“I don’t know,” said Alyssa.
“Can you show me the note?” asked Hailey.
Alyssa nodded and led her up the stairs. But when she opened her door, she gasped. The note that she’d left on her bed was gone.
“Where’s the note?” asked Hailey.
“It was right there,” said Alyssa, pointing at her bed.
But then another piece of paper appeared. Alyssa picked it up and read it.

Hello again Alyssa,

I have put your babysitter to sleep, just like I did with the other ways to reveal magic to you. You’ll find out why she is sleeping later.

Anonymous

“Not again,” mumbled Alyssa. “Why won’t they say their name?” She showed the note to Hailey.
“Let’s go call my dad before anything else happens,” declared Hailey.
How much worse could this get? Alyssa thought, as she followed Hailey down the stairs.

Chapter 2

Entering the first floor, the girls continued towards the phone—but stopped when they saw parts of Mrs. Hutchinson’s hair turn green and black rings circle her eyes. Not only that—a piece of paper also appeared on the wall outside of the living room. Alyssa and Hailey approached it and gasped at the messages, which looked like they’d been typed.

I sprayed my babysitter’s hair with spray paint – Alyssa McCarthy

I drew dark circles around my babysitter’s eyes with a black magic marker – Hailey Flynn

“We better take this off,” whined Hailey. She pulled on one of the corners and grunted. It didn’t come off. It stayed stuck as if glued with permanent glue. “It’s not coming off!” she squeaked.
“We’re going to have to call your dad,” said Alyssa.
“Do you still have the note?” asked Hailey.
“Yeah,” said Alyssa, reaching into her shirt pocket. But she felt no paper inside. “What the heck—it, like, disappeared!”
“What?” squealed Hailey.
“Let’s call him,” said Alyssa, turning to the phone. But the sound of a door slamming shut suggested to her that Uncle Bruce had come home. She and Hailey turned around to see him carry his bags.
“What are you two doing near the phone?” he asked.
“We need to tell you something!” shrieked Hailey.
“Why are you screaming, Hailey?” asked Uncle Bruce.
“Because—”
“Oh my God, girls, what did you do?” screeched Mrs. Hutchinson.
Everyone turned to her.
“We didn’t do it!” yelled Hailey.
“Then why does this paper say you did?” asked Mrs. Hutchinson, pointing at it.
Uncle Bruce powerwalked towards it and heaved a gasp.
“Oh my goodness!” he snapped. He turned to the girls, glaring. “Alyssa Caitlin McCarthy and Hailey Elizabeth Flynn, what in the world were you thinking?”
“Hailey’s right!” cried Alyssa. “We didn’t do it!”
“Don’t you dare lie to me!” snarled Uncle Bruce. “No one was here besides you guys!” Uncle Bruce tried to pull one of the corners and couldn’t get it off. “What did you do?”
“We didn’t do anything!” screamed Hailey.
“Stop lying!” boomed Uncle Bruce. “What’s the matter with you two? Why would you make marks on Mrs. Hutchinson? Are you three years old? No! You two are way too old to do what you’ve done!”
Then he turned to Mrs. Hutchinson. “Lorraine, you cannot sleep while babysitting!”
“I… I—”
“You’re fired!” Uncle Bruce declared. “Get your stuff and go!”
Mrs. Hutchinson heaved a sigh while striding towards the closet. Uncle Bruce leaned down and grasped Alyssa’s shoulders. The narrowness of her shoulder made her clench her teeth, as she received lots of pain. Uncle Bruce’s brittle salt and pepper hair even touched and itched her forehead, which caused her to squint her eyes.
“You are going to be thirteen next month!” Uncle Bruce bellowed. “Yet you and Hailey did something so childish, and then lied to me!”
“We really didn’t do it!” cried Alyssa. “I’m not lying!”
“Then how else would those marks have gotten there?” asked Uncle Bruce.
“M-magic,” answered Alyssa.
Uncle Bruce slapped her cheek.
“Ow!” yelled Alyssa, rubbing her cheek.
“That is the dumbest answer I’ve heard!” Uncle Bruce screamed. He turned to Hailey, squeezing her narrow shoulders, like he had done to Alyssa. “Hailey, don’t you lie to your father either!”
“Dad, please listen to us!”
“Absolutely not!” he roared. He let of Hailey’s shoulders. “I am now going to lock the study door, so that neither of you can get inside without my permission!”
“Uncle Bruce, I swear we—”
“Shut up, Alyssa!” Uncle Bruce rumbled. “You and Hailey are now grounded for two months!”
“No!” squeaked Alyssa.
“I’m sorry that you won’t be enjoying your birthday, Alyssa, but you should’ve thought of that before spray-painting Mrs. Hutchinson’s hair and lying to me!”
“How many times do I have to tell you that I didn’t do it?” squealed Hailey, stomping her foot.
“I don’t want to hear it anymore!” thundered Uncle Bruce. “I’m also giving you more work for homeschooling tomorrow!”
“Dad—”
“Go to your rooms and stay there until dinner!” yelped Uncle Bruce, pointing to the stairs.
Alyssa and Hailey obeyed him. Lugging their feet up the stairs, the two of them burst into tears once they reached the top. The worst of Alyssa’s worries had come true. All she wanted to do was prove Uncle Bruce wrong—but right now she couldn’t. Would the evidence of magic ever appear?
After entering her room, Alyssa threw herself onto her bed, sobbing in an uncontrollable manner as she curled up into a ball. Tears even streamed down to her quilt. It was all that mysterious person’s fault that the next two months would be spent in misery. She wanted to get out of this house. She wanted her godfather to arrange his legal guardianship as soon as possible, so that she could live with him.
Despite the fact that her godfather could be her legal guardian, the reason Alyssa had moved here was because her babysitter, at the time her parents had died, had babysat Hailey too. She’d actually convinced the police to let her take Alyssa to her aunt and uncle’s house to stay for the night. After she moved here, her aunt and uncle had become her legal guardians.
Because her godfather couldn’t go to her baptism when she was a baby, her church had arranged a private godparent ceremony for him and her. From then on, she and her godfather, Alex Kress, had a strong bond. He’d send her gifts during holidays and special occasions and take her on fun trips.
He’d moved from Ohio to New Jersey after becoming her godfather, so that he could be near her church. But shortly after she moved in with her aunt and uncle, he’d found a job in Ohio and moved back. However, he still called and emailed Alyssa every now and then.
All she wanted to do was talk to him. But right now she couldn’t. Calming down, her mind switched to thinking about Aunt Laura. She wished she and Hailey had never bought that chocolate box for Valentine’s Day three years ago.
When Alyssa and Hailey were in fourth and third grade, Aunt Laura had run Hailey’s class as the class mom. Because Hailey’s classmates had appreciated her sweetness, they’d all given her candy gifts for Valentine’s Day.
The box Alyssa and Hailey had bought had no flavor charts on the outside. So when Aunt Laura had opened the box and looked at the labels, she had aimed for a milk chocolate truffle filled with caramel. But she accidentally touched a dark chocolate truffle filled with raspberry. She’d had a fatal allergy to berries. Her face had reddened, her throat had constricted, which had decreased her ability to breathe, and then she collapsed. Before the ambulance had arrived at the house, though, Aunt Laura had died.
Uncle Bruce’s depression had led him to blame Hailey and Alyssa for her death, since they’d never warned her not to touch the chocolate filled with raspberry. His depression had become so bad, that he could never move on and treat them they way he’d used to. He’d placed new rules on Alyssa and Hailey that they hadn’t agreed with and still dislike now.
He’d even lost trust in so many people whom he thought “spoiled” them with free fun. In fact, he’d pulled Alyssa and Hailey out of school last June, because he’d thought that recess, friends, and other enjoyable times had distracted them from doing well. Starting last spring the two girls couldn’t get past B’s, and Uncle Bruce expected straight A’s. That was when he decided that all those “distractions” ruined them. When Alyssa was in fifth grade, he had pulled her out of her tap, jazz, and ballet classes, because her teacher had rewarded her and her ballet classmates with lollipops. Despite her and Hailey’s skinny bodies, Uncle Bruce only allowed earned junk food a few times a year, and they couldn’t be sweet or exceed four hundred calories.
Of course, Uncle Bruce didn’t scare Alyssa and Hailey as if her were a monster. In fact, he allowed the girls to buy stylish clothes, even if they cost a lot of money. He also allowed them fun, but only if they had earned it. Although Uncle Bruce didn’t mind letting Alyssa and Hailey buy clothes they liked, he wouldn’t let the have any electronic devices. He believed that they would be too expensive, and that the girls would become too distracted by them. He let them use the computer in the study, but only to write and print papers from. They couldn’t use the Internet except to look up stuff related to their schoolwork. He’d also disconnected the TV since he’d found it too distracting, and was worried that it had affected the girls’ ability to learn.
Alyssa pulled out her old photo album from the bookshelf and brought it back to her bed. She turned the page to a picture of her at the age of eight, Hailey, at the age of seven, and Aunt Laura. They stood with her in front of an old-fashioned village called Piper’s Village, which was a village of old-fashioned shops.
Aunt Laura’s diamond white smile glistened like a midnight star. Freckles spotted her face. Chestnut curls spiraled to her shoulders. Wispy bangs hid her forehead. Everything about her made Alyssa miss her, including her cooking. Aunt Laura used to bake delicious double chocolate chip cookies, lasagna, and chicken Parmesan. Uncle Bruce, on the other hand, only cooked plain white meat, fish and vegetables, and sometimes prepared salads. He’d never grill burgers, boil pasta, or bake desserts after Aunt Laura had died; so Alyssa never looked forward to dinner.
When Uncle Bruce called her and Hailey down for dinner, Alyssa and Hailey raced each other down the stairs. Uncle Bruce had cooked grilled chicken over Swiss chard, arugula, leaf lettuce, avocado, onions, and chopped tomatoes. No dressing was allowed, except for those that were vinegar-based. But he’d run out two days ago.
“Okay, girls, time to eat,” said Uncle Bruce. “I want your plates cleaned before you go to bed.”
Alyssa sighed, sitting down. It wasn’t worth bringing up that incident again. All she could do was hope that more magic would come. While eating her salad, the phone rang. Uncle Bruce sprinted over to pick it up.
“Hello?”
Alyssa continued to eat, ignoring Uncle Bruce. He probably talked to someone she didn’t know.
“Hey, Mr. Steinberg, how are you?”
Alyssa still ignored Uncle Bruce.
“Great. So you’ll tutor Alyssa and Hailey from three-thirty to five tomorrow?”
Okay. Finding out that Mr. Steinberg was a tutor, Alyssa now paid attention to Uncle Bruce.
“Okay, text me the directions to your house,” said Uncle Bruce. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Bye.”
Uncle Bruce hung up.
“Dad, is that guy going to tutor us?” asked Hailey.
“By ‘that guy,’ you mean Mr. Steinberg,” Uncle Bruce corrected. “And yes, he will be tutoring you tomorrow. In fact every Friday from three-thirty to five.”
“Why?” asked Hailey.
“Because, even in homeschooling, your grades still aren’t that good,” Uncle Bruce replied. “All you get are B’s and C’s. I want straight A’s.”
“What’s wrong with B’s?” asked Hailey.
“They’re below my standards,” said Uncle Bruce. “We’re not the only family like that, though. Lots of other parents are like that with their kids.”
“I really don’t think B’s are that bad,” said Alyssa.
“Well, I do,” said Uncle Bruce. “Now finish your dinner. No more talking until everything on your plate is gone.”
Alyssa sighed, piercing a piece of grilled chicken with her fork. Uncle Bruce didn’t seem so tough at dinner, but that, of course, didn’t mean anything. Alyssa wouldn’t get to visit Madison on Saturday, she wouldn’t get to have anything her way, and tomorrow, she’d be overwhelmed with the heavy load of work from Uncle Bruce.

Chapter 3

Last night Alyssa had set her alarm to seven o’clock this morning, so that she could talk to Alex. Uncle Bruce had sent her and Hailey to bed right after dinner, and every time she’d tried to go into the kitchen, he still worked in there. At some point she’d struggled to stay awake and fell asleep. As soon as she felt that way, she’d set her alarm.
After shutting her alarm off, Alyssa hopped out of bed, sweaty in her long-sleeved purple shirt and flannel pajama pants. She could get dressed after talking to Alex.
Creaking the door open, Alyssa peeked out and looked around. No sounds occurred in the hallway. Perfect. She stepped outside and dawdled towards the staircase. Despite the silence, tingles still prickled her skin. She could get caught aiming for the phone in the kitchen.
She stepped on the top step, and put the other foot in front of this one. She repeated the same thing until she dallied down the stairs. Hasty breaths exited her mouth as she approached the middle of the staircase. But she made her way to the first floor with no problem.
She looked back, checking to see if either Hailey or Uncle Bruce had woken up. Nope. Okay—now she could grab the phonebook and look up Alex’s phone number.
Picking it up, Alyssa flipped the pages to the “K” tab. She found names like Kennan, Khan, and Kriesberg, but no sign of the name Alexander Kress. That had to be a joke. How could his contact information not be available? She would check her email, except that Uncle Bruce had locked the study last night.
Putting the phonebook back, Alyssa sighed. Was there anything else that could contain Alex’s phone number?
Looking around, Alyssa saw old letters from earlier this year, vendor brochures, and some envelopes. No luck—until she thought she saw a double “S” on the last envelope. Pulling it out, she saw the name, Alex Kress, on it. Awesome.
She looked inside and saw a folded piece of paper. She pulled it out and saw that it’d been written a week after her parents had died.

January 22nd, 2005

Dear Laura,

My heart really broke into tiny pieces after hearing about the death of your brother, Ashton and his wife, Clara. I can imagine how much mourning you are experiencing a week after their deaths, especially as his older sister. That night some drunk driver crashed into the McCarthys’ car will never leave my mind. Poor Alyssa has been left orphaned thanks to that drunk driver. I can’t believe how much nerve it took her babysitter, Emily, to convince the police to let her drive her to your house just to stay there, especially because she’s only nineteen.
Please accept my sincere sympathy and take good care of Alyssa. If something happens again, let me know since I am her godfather.

Wishing you peace and healing,
Alex Kress

P.S. If you need to reach me, my house address is 50 Gemini Road, Brock Hills, Ohio, and my phone number is 740-555-7722.

Alyssa couldn’t believe it—she found Alex’s phone number. Finally! Now she could call him. She picked up the phone and dialed his number. Then she walked into the living room with the phone up to her ear.
“Hello?” Alex answered.
“Hey, Alex, it’s Alyssa.”
“Oh hey, Alyssa. I haven’t heard from you in three years. How’ve you been?”
“I wish I had a better life.”
“What do you mean?”
Alyssa explained how Uncle Bruce had changed and treated her and Hailey for about two or three minutes.
“Oh my God, I’m sorry to hear that,” said Alex.
“My uncle even grounded my cousin and I for something we didn’t even do.”
“What was it?” asked Alex.
“Um… it may sound kind of weird.”
“Still—it would help if you told me anyway.”
“All right. Just be prepared for me to sound crazy.” Alyssa told him the reason.
“Oh my God,” gasped Alex. “I… I don’t believe it.”
“I know,” said Alyssa. “But can you keep it a secret to anyone else you know?”
“Why?” asked Alex.
“Because they probably won’t believe you. No one believed me.”
“All right, sweetie, I won’t.”
“Thanks. So when can you talk to your lawyer about having me move in with you?”
“I can do it now, but it’ll take at least a month before I can be your legal guardian.”
“A month?”
“Yeah. I’m sorry. If I could make it earlier, I would.”
“Okay,” said Alyssa. She said goodbye to Alex and hung up.
“Alyssa!” Hailey called from upstairs.
“Yeah?” she answered.
“Who were you talking to?” she asked, dallying down the stairs.
“If I tell you, do you promise not to tell your dad?” she asked.
“Yes,” said Hailey.
“My godfather.”
“If you get to live with him, will I be able to go?” asked Hailey.
“Sorry, no.”
“Why not?”
“The way my parents had organized it was for him to only be my guardian.”
Hailey groaned.
“It’s okay, Hailey, you can talk to your grandparents. They only live a half hour away.”
“Yeah, I guess I could,” said Hailey.
“Girls, get dressed!” shouted Uncle Bruce from upstairs.
“I’ll call them later,” said Hailey.
The two girls headed back up the stairs. Alyssa walked into her room, where she dressed herself in jeggings, a tank top, and a plaid shirt. After getting dressed she heard another swishing. Not again. She had enough with this anonymous sender. Nevertheless, she picked up the piece of paper and read it.

Dear Alyssa McCarthy,

We need to talk about the strange happenings you’ve encountered yesterday. I didn’t commit them, but I know who did. The name of the person is Beau Duchamp. I will tell you all about it in a few minutes. Meet me in your bathroom. The one you’re closest to.

Have a nice day,
Simon

P.S. If you’re wondering why Duchamp and I made these notes appear to you, it’s because that’s how we wizards communicate with people whose contact information we don’t know.

Thank goodness that Alyssa finally found out the name of the person who’d been committing those crazy pranks. But who was this “Simon” guy? How did he know her name? He sounded like a trustworthy person, but should she trust him? She’d learned about stranger safety when she was little, and never to trust strangers. But maybe she should give it a try to trust Simon. Whenever somebody sounded worried, Alyssa had always trusted him or her. But she’d known everybody who’d worried about her. That was different.
She walked into the bathroom to do her morning routine: wash her face, and brush her hair and teeth. After doing all three, though, she heard a voice with a British accent whisper, “Alyssa, don’t go.”
Alyssa turned around, letting out a shriek. A small marble statue with wings, short wavy hair, and a suit, stood by her and waved his hand.
“I know—I look strange,” said the statue.
“You’re… you’re—”
“Simon—the one who sent you the note about this meeting,” he said.
“You should’ve told me you’re a statue,” Alyssa said, kneeling down.
Simon bent his eyebrows.
“Who are calling a statue?” he asked. “Statues aren’t alive. Therefore, I’m not a statue.”
“Then what are you?” asked Alyssa.
“A marble figure,” Simon answered. “I’ve been alive for thirty years. In fact, I was born into a family of marble figures.”
“How did marble figures come to life?” Alyssa asked.
“Some wizard magically brought them to life two thousand years ago,” Simon said. “I don’t know how or when, but I don’t have time to tell you anyway. We need to discuss Duchamp and the storm tonight.”
“There’s a storm tonight?” asked Alyssa.
“Yes,” said Simon. “Hey, why don’t you lock the door? We can’t be seen.”
Alyssa did so. “So why didn’t anyone tell me about the storm?”
“Duchamp is forming it now,” said Simon.
“Was he the one who turned the rain black and—?”
“Yes,” said Simon. “He committed every magical incident from yesterday.”
“Including the marks on my babysitter?”
“Yep. He’s also responsible for making her fall asleep.”
“My uncle grounded my cousin and I for that, though,” said Alyssa.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” said Simon. “I’m assuming you also told him the truth, and he didn’t believe you.”
Alyssa nodded.
“Well, just like Duchamp wanted your babysitter gone, he wants to hurt your uncle now too.”
Alyssa gasped.
“That’s why he’s creating the storm,” said Simon. “It was the best thing he could think of. Right now he’s hiding and he doesn’t want to be seen by other people until you don’t have anyone to protect you.”
“Can’t the police find him?”
“Nope. He’s so powerful that he created charms on himself to make him invisible to the police, government, and FBI—from anywhere in the world.”
“Oh my God.”
“I know. Anyway, let’s talk about the storm. Tonight it’s supposed to sleet in the colors of electric green, bright purple, and lemon yellow.”
“Why those colors?”
“So no one assumes it’s just an ordinary storm. But it’s going to hurt your uncle in some way. I don’t know what, but you won’t be happy tomorrow morning.”
“Something’s going to happen to him overnight?”
“Yes.”
“Oh my God,” moaned Alyssa. Despite how tough and unfair Uncle Bruce had been, deep down, Alyssa still loved him and would never want anything bad to happen to him.
“But most importantly, Alyssa, you need to know about what Duchamp wants with you,” said Simon.
“What?”
“He wants to kidnap you to the Fiji Islands and kill you,” said Simon.
“You’re kidding.”
“I wish. But he owns a dark magic center there and he wants to keep you there, because in the tropics, magical connections work better, and Master Beau can only achieve his goal if he kills you there with some type of magic.”
“Wait—there’s a connection between us?”
“Yes. He received it last fall at your parents’ graves, when he put a magic thermos near it, and sucked in copies of their DNA.”
“Why’d he go?”
“I don’t know. I’ll have to find out. But once he opened the lid, the DNA evaporated, and traveled to you, since you’re the only one related to them that he could use.”
“I don’t remember experiencing anything like that.”
“It happened when you were sleeping. It doesn’t work when you’re awake. But ever since then, it grew and has reached its peak yesterday.”
“Oh no,” groaned Alyssa.
“Yes, it’s scary. But one of the good things about marble figures is that they can observe information from other people’s brains. So later today I’ll talk to you about why he wants you, exactly.”
“Okay.”
“I’m going to go now,” said Simon. He pushed his body up into the air, held out his arms, and disappeared.
Alyssa left the bathroom and treaded downstairs for breakfast, where Uncle Bruce cooked spinach and egg white omelets and Hailey ate some sliced pears.
“What were you doing upstairs so long?” asked Hailey.
“Uh… hanging out,” Alyssa lied. “Did anyone hear about the storm tonight?”
“What storm?” asked Hailey.
“It’s supposed to sleet,” said Alyssa.
“They didn’t say anything about sleet on the radio,” said Uncle Bruce. “I don’t know where you heard that, but you need to let that go and eat your breakfast. We’ve got a lot of work to cover today.”
Alyssa sat down at the table and ate some pears. At some point the radio must announce the sleet storm. Uncle Bruce must also know that he would be harmed tonight. It would be better to know as soon as possible than at the last minute.

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Tag der Veröffentlichung: 19.12.2012

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