In the storefront window, the reflection of Olivia’s seriously embarrassing top floated beside an empty baby bassinet. Ivy felt her heart flapping in her chest. This is where I might find out about my parents, she thought. What if I don’t like what I find?
Then she thought of how eager Olivia had been for her to come here. “I hope you find what we’re looking for,” her sister’s voice whispered in her head.
Ivy took a deep breath, walked in, and headed straight for the back of the store, where she found a door in the crib section labeled STAFF ONLY. Beside the door was a small metal plate that had a black button beneath a round speaker. Ivy pressed the button; somewhere, a buzzer sounded faintly. A moment later, the speaker clicked to life.
Ivy put her mouth close to it. “Marmalade,” she said carefully. At least it’s better than the last password, she thought. I hate butterscotch.
“Approach the mirror,” a nasal voice crackled. Ivy looked around and noticed that hanging on the wall nearby was a cartoonish ceramic monkey that had a round mirror where its face should be. She walked over, and the mirror slid down to reveal the pale, sharp face of a man with bifocals. It was quite a head for a goofy monkey’s body, and Ivy cracked a smile against her will.
The man scowled back. “Can I help you?” he asked in a nasal monotone. Ivy leaned forward and whispered, “I’m here for the adoption agency appointment.”
The man peered over his glasses and took in Ivy’s sparkly top. “Did Serena Star send you?” he said suspiciously.
“No!” said Ivy. “I’m— This is just my disguise. I wouldn’t be caught dead in clothes like this normally.”
“Name?” he asked.
“Ivy Vega.”
The man pulled away from the mirror and looked down, presumably at the appointment book. He peered back up at Ivy, eyeing her top dubiously. “Prove it.”
Ivy dug into Olivia’s book bag, pulled out her student ID card, and handed it over.
The man barely looked at the card before passing it back. “Looks fake.”
“It’s not!” Ivy cried, but the monkey man just stared at her impassively. Ivy rolled her eyes. “What do you want me to do, bite someone?”
“Very funny,” the man said without a hint of a smile.
Ivy sighed with exasperation. Then she reached up and gently took out one of her contact lenses to reveal her natural bright-violet eye color. “Okay?” she demanded.
The man nodded grudgingly and Ivy heard a buzz come from the door. She rushed to put her contact lens back in and open the door before he changed his mind.
Inside, Ivy was surprised to find a mediumsized room packed with every conceivable item a vampire baby could want. There were utterly cute tiny black coffins lined up against one wall and paper mobiles with bats and moons hanging from the ceiling. Ivy’s heart nearly melted when she saw a little black onesie that said GOT BLOOD? on it.
“Can I help you?” asked a voice behind her.
Ivy turned to see a friendly-looking woman whose pale face was punctuated by a shock of bright red lipstick. She was sitting at a desk with a sign that said GIFT REGISTRY and looking at Ivy expectantly.
Ivy walked over to her. “I’m looking for the adoption agency,” she said.
“With a shirt like that,” the woman replied, “I don’t think any vamp in their right mind’s gonna adopt you, honey!”
Ivy must have looked upset, because the woman added, “Oh, I was just teasing. You must be Ivy Vega!”
Ivy nodded gratefully. At least she wasn’t going to have to convince another person that she belonged here, in spite of her bunny outfit. “But isn’t this the gift registry?” she asked.
“Gift registry, adoption agency, it’s all the same computer system,” the woman told her, knocking proudly on the flickering computer screen beside her. “We just need clearance from the central office in Transylvania.” She handed over a clipboard. “Now you fill out these forms, Ivy Vega, and we’ll see if we can’t take care of you.”
Ivy took a seat on a huge black rocking chair in the corner and started filling out the forms. Name. Date of birth. Adoptive parent. Birth mother. Ivy stopped and looked up. “What if I don’t know the answer to something?” she asked.
“Just do the best you can, honey,” the woman said kindly.
A few minutes later, Ivy handed back the forms. The woman flipped through them quickly. “Let me guess. You’re looking for your mom and dad.”
Ivy nodded hopefully.
“All righty!” the woman said cheerfully, and Ivy had the un-Ivylike urge to hug her. It must be the sparkles, she thought. They’ve gone to my head!