James and I went home soon after. Hen wanted to get ice cream, but I figured I should head home.
No one seemed to notice we’d been missing. I even managed to shower before seeing my parents. While James took his turn, I searched my room for a hiding place for the Pearls, finally settling on a book safe I’d made in Cub Scouts. Breaking Dawn by Stephenie Meyer seemed as good a place as any.
Relieved, I thought about going for a run, but being grounded meant I couldn’t leave. I glanced out the window and saw Camila digging in the garden. I slid the glass up.
“Hey, want to watch Stranger Things?” I called.
She looked up and bit her lower lip. “I’m in the middle of something. Be right in when I’m done!” she said.
“OK!” I closed the window.
SPLAT! A seagull dropping hit the windowpane. Outside, I saw a seagull swoop down and flap in midair for a few seconds. We stared each other down.
“Who’s laughing now?” I asked it.
The bird let out a screech and flew away as I smiled.
Ten minutes later, Camila joined me inside, and we watched TV together for an hour. Then Camila disappeared into her bedroom and I spent the afternoon flipping through the books Deleea gave me, curious about my new world. James rehearsed his lines, but neither of us talked about what had happened that day. I wondered if the Sombras had recovered the decoy Pearls and, if so, if they knew that they were fake. It was unsettling knowing that Eight and the rest of the Sombras were still out there.
Eventually my parents came home, we all ate dinner, and I returned to my bedroom, still feeling uneasy. . I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was unfinished. I sat at my desk, paced the floor, laid on my bunkbed staring at the ceiling then went through the whole cycle again and again for what felt like ages.
It wasn’t until after bedtime that I decided to do something. I grabbed the last leaf from my backpack and went downstairs to find my parents working in the office.
Michael and Mamá were at their desks in the office. I walked in, closing the door behind me.
“Mamá? Michael? Can we talk?”
They both looked up at me expectantly. Mamá wore a sort of weathered expression that seemed half-concerned, half-relieved.
“What is it hijito? You can tell us anything.”
I took a deep breath. “K’anchay.”
The leaf glowed, filling the room with a bluish light.
Michael and Mamá looked at me with a mixture of shock and confusion.
“There’s something you should know about me.”
