Long Lost, стр. 11

Their mom smiled across the table at their dad. “How were your first classes?”

“Pretty smooth. We took care of all the busywork, looked over the syllabus—”

“Did you do any dissection yet?” Fiona asked, through a mouthful of rice.

“No, unfortunately.” Her dad sighed, cutting a precise cube of chicken with the tip of his knife. “How was everybody else’s day?”

“The drive to the rink feels like nothing,” said Fiona’s mom. “Sixteen minutes! We should have made this move years ago.”

Fiona stiffened, mid-chew.

“Hey,” said her dad, seeing the look on her face. “Now that we’re all a little less busy, we could consider getting a dog again. What do you think?”

“I think yes!” Fiona shouted.

“I think we could talk about it.” Her mom looked at Fiona, who was stuffing a shrub-sized bite of broccoli into her mouth. “Slow down, Fiona. The digestive system isn’t a garbage disposal.”

“I’m playing Kon-Struct with Nick and Bina and Cy at seven,” said Fiona, with full cheeks. “We’re starting a new city.”

“I don’t understand that game,” Arden spoke up. “What’s the point? It’s just playing with blocks on a screen.”

Fiona sat up straighter. “No, it isn’t. It’s engineering. And architecture. And it’s the only thing I get to do with my friends now that we live here.”

“Ew.” Arden’s forehead crinkled. “Keep your broccoli in your mouth once you’ve put it there.”

“I am,” said Fiona, wiping a fleck of green from her lips.

“What are your plans for the evening, Arden?” their dad broke in.

Arden’s eyes brightened as they left Fiona’s face. “Mom and I are going to watch that new dancing competition, Never Before Seen. The one where they have to pick their teams blindfolded, and then rehearse in the dark.”

“That sounds way stupider than building with blocks on a screen,” said Fiona.

Arden’s frown slashed back toward her. “No it doesn’t. ‘Stupider’ isn’t even a word.”

“Yes, it is,” argued Fiona.

“I’m pretty sure it isn’t,” said their dad thoughtfully.

“I’m pretty sure it doesn’t matter.” Their mom reached for the pitcher. “Anyone else need more water?”

“So, what time can we go to the library?” Fiona asked as her mom refilled her glass. “It opens at nine. I want to be there right away.”

“I’ve got to be at the clinic by eight thirty,” said her mom. “Steven?”

“Dad’s taking me to the rink tomorrow morning. Remember?” said Arden, with a sharp look at both parents. “I’m practicing for my next test. Remember?”

“Right.” Their dad nodded, although he looked slightly surprised.

“Then who’s going to help me get our library cards?” Fiona asked.

“Well,” said her dad, “I guess I could take you to the library when I drop Arden off at home and head back to campus, although timing will be pretty tight . . .”

“But you promised!”

“I did?” Her dad looked surprised again.

“No. I did.” Her mom sighed. “We’ll get the library cards, ladybug. It just won’t be first thing in the morning.”

“But—”

“Oh my gosh,” Arden interrupted. “It’s a library. It’s not going anywhere.”

Fiona whirled toward her. “The book I want might go somewhere.”

“Then pick another book.”

“Why don’t you pick another practice time?”

Arden’s face pinched. “I can’t pick another practice time. It isn’t—”

“Enough,” their mom cut in. “Who needs another piece of chicken?”

“I’m done,” said Fiona, still frowning at Arden. “Can I be excused?”

After clearing her plate, Fiona hurried toward the stairs, leaving the sound of her family’s voices behind.

Even with the hallway lamps shining, the old house was thick with shadows, holding pockets of darkness where light couldn’t reach. The floorboards groaned under her feet.

Arden’s skating bag hung over the newel post at the bottom of the steps.

Fiona froze beside it. Making sure no one else was in sight, she reached into the bag and drew out Arden’s left skate.

Its white leather boot felt stiff and sturdy, nothing like the weathered cover of an old book. A purple skate guard covered the blade. A small knot was tied at the end of its lace.

Fiona knew why. At Arden’s very first skating competition, the lace in her left boot had been a tiny bit too long. To shorten it, Arden had tied a knot near the end of the lace before soaring onto the ice and earning her first gold medal. Arden had tied a knot in her left lace, for luck, ever since.

Fiona worked her fingernails into the knot. It unwound, leaving nothing but a kinked spot in the lace. She slid the skate quickly back into the bag.

A thrill of secret power shot through her.

She hadn’t really harmed anything, Fiona reassured herself. It’s not like a little bit of knotted string was the key to Arden’s success. Besides, Arden could retie the knot as soon as she noticed that it was undone. And, knowing perfectionist Arden, she would notice.

That was the whole point. Arden would notice, and she would wonder, and maybe she would worry. Just a tiny bit.

Smiling to herself, Fiona raced up to her own bedroom. She was just in time to join her friends for some Kon-Struct.