I quietly entered the house again, passing Camila watching TV in the family room as I trudged upstairs. I considered taking a shower, but James was already in there, belting out “Defying Gravity.” I was about to enter my bedroom when I heard Mamá’s voice.
“This is completely unlike him,” she said.
That sounded interesting. I pushed my ear up against the door to her room.
“He’s my easy child. He’s not the one I catch blowing things up or trying to go viral or breaking every bone in his body doing gymnastics.”
My cheeks burned. It was obvious who she was worried about—and it wasn’t Camila, James, or even Hayden this time.
“I think you’re overreacting, Carolina,” Michael said.
“How am I supposed to know he wasn’t out doing drugs or steroids.”
“Do you think that’s what he’s doing?”
“I don’t know!” Mamá blurted. When Michael didn’t respond, she continued. “I suppose not. But he’s not telling me everything.”
“That race was a big deal to him.”
“It’s not that. Something else is going on and he’s not telling us.”
“You need to trust him, Carolina.”
Ugh. Michael telling my mamá to trust me made me feel like a cheese grater was scraping me up inside. I hated hurting them like this.
A door opened and Hayden appeared two feet from where I was crouched. He looked down at me, deadpan as I straightened up. “Uh, how was cheerleading practice?” I asked, anxiously.
Hayden grunted in response and closed his door again. A surprisingly long conversation for the two of us.
Something in my parents’ room had changed and I sped away, right as the door opened. I jumped, startled, trying to look casual.
“Heya Michael,” I said nervously. Man, I was terrible at this.
“Santiago?” he said as Mamá appeared at his side. “You–”
“Just getting ready for bed. Been a long day,” I said quickly. I yawned, hoping that would make the story more convincing, although I guess it wasn’t actually untrue.
Mamá and Michael gave me a look that made me feel ashamed all over again. It was the same one they gave Hayden when he was cutting classes. I hated this.
Before either of them could say anything, I darted into my bedroom and shut the door.
I changed into my pajamas and climbed up into my bunk, where I stared up at the ceiling. Soon the boisterous singing in the bathroom stopped and James walked in. He was unusually quiet as he changed and settled into bed.
“Santiago,” James said from the bunk below.
“Yeah?”
“You didn’t brush your teeth.”
“Oh yeah,” I said, rolling over and dropping out of bed.
I didn’t encounter anyone else on my way to the bathroom. I was just starting to brush when I heard a loud crash and breaking glass.
“What the heck?!”
Uh oh. I didn’t know what happened, but I knew instinctively that it was my fault. I spat out the toothpaste and dashed back to my bedroom, right at the heels of Mamá and Michael.
The chest that I had placed on my dresser was now full-sized and teetering over the edge. Mamá sprinted forward and caught it before it could tumble down. My breath caught—I’d totally forgotten what Bess said about the shrinking spell wearing off after a few hours. I could see the shreds of the canvas bag underneath it as well as pieces of the ceramic lamp, which must have been pushed off when the chest expanded.
“What’s going on?” Mamá asked as Michael helped her lower the chest to the ground. “Where did this come from?”
She looked accusingly at James, likely because he was the only one in the room at the time.
“I’ve never seen it before in my life,” James said defensively. Mamá and Michael both turned to me.
“Oh, I um, got that earlier.”
“Why did you put it on the dresser?” Michael asked, confused.
“Because, um, if I’d left it on the floor, it would’ve been in the way while I was vacuuming.”
“I swear I didn’t see that there earlier,” James said, looking flustered.
“That’s quality woodwork on the outside,” Michael murmured, moving his hand across the lid.
“What’s inside?” Mamá asked. She grabbed the key and twisted.
I clenched my fists. I was supposed to keep them away from the chest. I’d lasted a whopping eight hours?
She lifted the lid and they all peered inside. “It’s empty,” she said, surprised.
I let out my breath, relieved that the false bottom of the chest was still in place.
“You never know when you’ll want a chest like this,” I said, trying to recover the situation. “There’s all kinds of things you can put inside.”
“But how did it push the lamp off?” Michael asked me.
“I know, right?”
Mamá looked at me suspiciously, as though I knew more than I was telling. Which, of course, I did. But she didn’t seem to think I’d committed a punishable offense.
“You must have left it too close to the edge,” Mamá said.
“Once you guys finish cleaning this up, get to bed,” Michael said. “You too,” he added to Camila who had poked her head into my room. She always appeared when anything loud happened. They left our room.
Dumping what was left of the lamp into the garbage didn’t take very long. I’d vacuum tomorrow morning. Again.
I climbed up into bed and settled under my covers once more.
“Santiago, that trunk wasn’t there before.” There was accusation in James’s voice. He might not know what happened, but he could tell it had to do with me.
I pretended to be asleep, which we both knew wasn’t true.