T*Witches 3: Seeing Is Deceiving

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T*Witches 3: Seeing Is Deceiving Page 15

by H. B. Gilmour


  Alex was the first, and only, person she’d ever shared it with.

  On one of the last days of late autumn, when the air was ripe with the scent of snow, Cam and Alex headed there together. A little more than a week had passed since the rave, since they’d busted open the Helping Hands ring of thieves, since Beth and Cam had made up — and since they’d seen or heard from Thantos, Fredo, Karsh, or Ileana.

  Alex felt the wind in her hair as she pedaled next to her twin, through Cam’s stately suburban neighborhood. It was so neat and antiseptic. What was she doing here?

  Once, Alex had said to Cam, “You’re acting like you can just cut and paste me into your perfect little life. Well, you can’t.”

  Yet that was exactly what was happening.

  And it didn’t totally suck.

  The twins turned onto the main road that led into town, then circled through the narrow winding streets that gave way to the cobblestones of “old town, Marble Bay.” They locked their bikes outside the stand by the arched entrance to the park and without a word or signal raced each other up the winding path that led to their tree.

  Alex got there first, half a second ahead of Cam. She pinged Cam’s shoulder. “Dude, I beat you.”

  “Gloat not, dude,” Cam mimicked. “I totally let you win. It’s all part of the new, unselfish Camryn Barnes.”

  “Delude yourself much? I am the faster twin!” Alex plopped on the ground and Cam settled in beside her.

  “Yet you’re not so fast on the uptake news. ’Cause I don’t think you heard this —” Cam’s eyes glinted mischievously.

  “The uptake news? What are you, the new Brianna?”

  “Well, it was Bree who called. But ‘Our Lady of the Satellite Dish’ knew what happened, but not why.”

  “Okay, I’ll play,” Alex said, plucking a blade of grass. “You’re busting to tell me — go for it.”

  “Who: Brice Stanley, magnanimous movie star. What: donated a ton of money. To: Sunshine House! And sista-clone, I think you know why!!”

  Alex’s majestic eyes widened. “You think?”

  “Think! Duh! We probably totally shamed him into doing it.”

  “But how?” Alex asked. “That little e-mail exchange between Sunshine House and uh … Brice … was confidential.”

  “E-mails? Confidential? If you’re gonna be a lawyer’s daughter, you’ve got a lot to learn, cybernaif. A) No such thing as confidential e-mails, and B) Ever hear the word leak? When Sunshine House heard from deep-pocketed, good-hearted Brice, they probably leaked it to the press. And then how would it look for pricey Bricey to do a U-turn? Can you say, ‘Stinko publicity’? His handlers probably told him it was cheaper to make the donation, even if he was sorta scammed into it.”

  “So in the end,” Alex said, “Helping Hands — with an assist by a couple of T*Witches — did really help Sunshine House. I’d call that majorly unselfish.”

  “Whoo-hoo! I am the unselfish twin!” Cam raised her arms triumphantly.

  Alex couldn’t help herself. “Yeah, I wonder if Uncle Thantos is up on your personality change.”

  Cam’s smile faded. “Thanks. I needed that. Can’t be too happy, can we?”

  “Sorry. It just freaked me when Shane said that Thantos knows everything about us.”

  Especially since he’ll be back. Cam shuddered, knowing Alex was reading her mind. She stuck out her chin defiantly. “Just let him! Every day, we get stronger.”

  Alex slumped against the tree. “Right, keep the faith.”

  Instinctively, Cam and Alex touched their sun and moon charms, which hung securely around their necks.

  “Ileana said she used our necklaces to free Karsh. So that would mean they work for people besides us,” Cam ventured.

  “For relatives, that would make sense,” Alex agreed.

  “So,” Cam said it, “you’re pretty certain she’s — well, because of the eyes, I guess.” But she’s not our mother….

  Alex was on the train. No way. She shrugged. “Older sister?”

  Thoughtfully, Cam said, “Maybe she’s not related. Maybe these charms work for anyone, if you’re trying to do something good. And maybe lots of people on, uh, Coventry Island have the same weird eyes as us. How would we know, we’ve never been there.”

  They stared out at the harbor in silence, for how long they didn’t really know. Then, jarringly, Cam’s watch beeped. She jumped, almost forgetting why she’d set it.

  Alex reminded her, “Something’s going on chez Barnes — hadn’t we better be getting back?”

  Cam gently smacked her palm against her forehead. “Emily’s birthday. Party going on.”

  “Emily?” Alex said. “Don’t you mean Mom?”

  Cam searched Alex’s face for even a hint of sarcasm. She found none.

  “She’s not only pretty good at the mom thing, she’s all we’ve got,” Alex added.

  “I don’t know,” Cam said slowly. “It doesn’t seem like anyone really knows what happened to Miranda. She just vanished.”

  “Listen to me,” Alex said earnestly, “I know something about moms. And so do you. If Miranda were alive, she would have contacted us by now — Sara or Emily would have. They’d have gone to the ends of the earth and beyond to find us, they’d —”

  But Cam tuned out. She couldn’t help it. Her head suddenly began to throb, and she felt so cold, her teeth chattered. She shut her eyes against the stinging sensation. And Camryn saw:

  A room, bathed in sunlight so bright no one without supersight could have seen what was in it. A woman was staring out a big window. Her hair, a dark chestnut color, was braided down her back. And then there were colors! A kaleidoscope of brilliant shades, vibrant patches … a quilt? Was she clutching a quilt?

  “Als?” Cam grabbed her sister’s hand hard.

  “What?” Alex held tight, her knuckles white.

  “I feel it. I know it. She’s alive.”

  ABOUT THE AUTHORS

  H.B. Gilmour is the author of numerous best-selling books for adults and young readers, including the Clueless movie novelization and series; Pretty in Pink, a University of Iowa Best Book for Young Readers; and Godzilla, a Nickelodeon Kids Choice nominee. She also cowrote the award-winning screenplay Tag.

  H.B. lives in upstate New York with her husband, John Johann, and their misunderstood dog, Fred, one of the family’s five pit bulls, three cats, two snakes (a boa constrictor and a python), and five extremely bright, animal-loving children.

  Randi Reisfeld has written many best-sellers, such as the Clueless series; the Moesha series; and biographies of Prince William, New Kids on the Block, and Hanson. Her Scholastic paperback Got Issues Much? was named an ALA Best Book for Reluctant Readers in 1999.

  Randi has always been fascinated with the randomness of life…. About how any of our lives can simply “turn on a dime” and instantly (snap!) be forever changed. About the power each one of us has deep inside, if only we knew how to access it. About how any of us would react if, out of the blue, we came face-to-face with our exact double.

  From those random fascinations, T*Witches was born.

  Oh, and BTW: She has no twin (that she knows of) but an extremely cool family and cadre of BFFs to whom she is totally devoted.

 

 

 


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