Natalie helped pull him out of the back seat. He took a deep breath as soon as he had his feet firmly on the sidewalk. The air smelled like lilacs, nothing at all like the foul smell of the other world.
“I’m not sure how long it will take Chess and Emma,” Natalie whispered, bending down to his level. “We may have to act really stupid about finding the right trees. You be the lookout—let me know when Chess and Emma are back in the car.”
And then Mr. Mayhew was out of the car beside them, and Natalie switched to exclaiming, “How much do you know about trees, Dad? Can you tell which ones are unusual?”
As Natalie pulled her dad down toward the pond, Finn looked back over his shoulder. Chess and Emma were already out of the car, bent low and half tiptoeing, half sprinting down the sidewalk. Finn felt a little pang, even though he trusted his brother and sister one hundred percent. If they said they wouldn’t go to the other world without him, they truly wouldn’t. Not if they could help it.
But what if something happens, and they can’t help it? he wondered. What if they think they’re just picking up whatever they need, but the tunnel opens again when they don’t expect it, and they get sucked into the other world by mistake? And then they’re trapped, too?
Finn knew he should turn around and help Natalie keep her dad looking at trees and leaves. But he kept facing backward a moment longer.
That’s how he came to see a dark car park far down the block. A man with close-cropped hair got out of the car and began doing elaborate stretches that involved propping first one foot, then the other, against the hood of his car, and bending down to touch his chin to his knees again and again.
It struck Finn that those exercises put the man in the perfect position to watch Mr. Mayhew’s car and Chess and Emma as they sprinted away.
And it struck Finn that the man’s exercise clothes were all navy blue and orange. All the mean people in the other world had worn navy blue and orange.
So what? Sometimes people in this world wear navy blue and orange, too, Finn told himself. It could just be a—what’s it called?—a coincidence.
Still, Finn decided he needed to stay close to the street and keep an eye on the man who seemed only to be pretending to exercise.
From down closer to the pond, he heard Natalie tell her dad, “No, I don’t think that’s just an ordinary willow tree. Hold that branch still so I can take a picture and do an image search on my phone. Finn? What are you doing? Can you come help us?”
“Just a minute,” Finn said. “I’m . . . tying my shoe.”
And then he really did dip down and pretend to fiddle with his shoelaces. It was a shame he couldn’t shout back, I’m doing something more important here! You have to handle your dad by yourself!
When he stood back up, he glanced first toward Chess and Emma, who were two blocks away now, and moving fast. While Finn watched, they turned the corner, out of sight.
What if there was another guy in blue and orange just around the corner? What if it was another kidnapper? Finn wouldn’t be able to stand it if anything happened to Chess and Emma.
He really wouldn’t be able to stand it if something happened to Chess and Emma, and Finn could have stopped it—but didn’t.
He glanced back toward the stretching man. Now Exercise Guy was in a half crouch with one ankle braced against the other knee, as if he wanted to sit crisscross applesauce in midair.
Just an ordinary runner getting ready to jog, Finn told himself. That’s all. It’s just a guy from this world, doing normal this-world stuff.
The man finished his stretches and took off running toward Finn—and toward the street where Chess and Emma had turned.
I’ll just watch until he goes past, Finn told himself. Or until he’s past that street, and he doesn’t turn, so I know he’s not following Chess and Emma.
The man was getting closer and closer. Finn ducked down behind Mr. Mayhew’s car, but he could still see the man through the car windows.
The man’s face looked familiar: dark eyebrows, gray eyes, big nose, and a small mouth with deep frown lines around it.
Not a neighbor, Finn thought. Not the dad of anyone I know at school. Not one of the cops . . .
It was thinking of the cops that helped Finn figure out where he’d seen this man before. The man had been in a guard’s uniform, standing on a stage. And he’d been announcing the start of a trial, saying Finn’s mother was guilty.
This man was from the other world.
For a long moment, Finn stood frozen, too terrified to move. That gave the man time to put on a burst of speed, move far past Mr. Mayhew’s car—and then turn at the same corner where Chess and Emma had turned.
Finn began to scream.
Five
Emma
Emma was having doubts.
Oh, she was plenty sure that she could be right about the two worlds fitting together like reversible sequins on a pillow. And she was plenty sure that there could be multiple entry points into the other world. But what if she was wrong about the torn-off lever from their basement being the key to everything? What if she’d gotten Chess, Finn, and Natalie all excited about nothing?
The scientific method—and allowing for lots of trial and error—was great when you just wanted to find out if a hypothesis worked. When you had all the time in the world, and could have fun figuring everything out.
It wasn’t so great when your mother was in danger, and you already felt like time was running out.
“Chess . . . ,” Emma began as they raced toward their own block.
Chess barely grunted a reply. Their own house had just come into sight. It still had crime scene tape around it, with the stark black letters on the yellow background spelling out POLICE LINE DO NOT CROSS again and again. Two new signs were posted on the front door: One said, “NO TRESPASSING,” with a bunch of small print underneath; one said, “REWARD!” with two pictures underneath.
“Ooh,” Emma moaned, realizing that the pictures were of her mom and Ms. Morales.
The police were offering a reward for information about the whereabouts of both women. Emma hadn’t known that.
It made them seem like criminals. Or . . . like they were gone forever.
But we know they’re in the other world, Emma reminded herself. Mom has information that protects her there—that’s why we rescued the Gustanos instead of her. Because the Gustanos weren’t protected. And Ms. Morales . . . she’s smart. She can take care of herself. So can Joe.
Even if Emma had been absolutely certain that her mother, Ms. Morales, and Joe were safe, she still would have hated seeing her house this way. The police tape and the signs made it seem like the house belonged to somebody else entirely—total strangers, even.
It looked almost as foreign as the run-down, dilapidated version of their house she’d seen in the other world.
Somewhere far behind them, Emma heard someone scream. It was probably just kids playing—there were lots of kids in their neighborhood, and Finn’s friends in particular screamed at the top of their lungs all the time. But today it sent chills down Emma’s spine.
“I’m glad Finn didn’t have to see this,” she muttered to Chess, pointing toward the signs on the door.
“We’ll go in through the garage,” Chess muttered back. He held up the spare garage key, which Mom usually kept tucked in a flowerpot at the back of the house. Emma felt a little burst of love for Chess, that two weeks ago in the midst of shock and horror, he’d had the presence of mind to snag the spare key without the cops noticing. Chess was like that, quietly taking care of things.