cool, though, when I don’t have a clue what’s going on.
Mr. Badar nudges my elbow to get moving again, and I follow him on autopilot.
We make one more turn and end up at the door leading into the front office of Katmere’s headmaster, also known as my uncle Finn. I expect Mr. Badar to knock, but he just throws the door open and propels us into the office’s antechamber, where Uncle Finn’s assistant is at her desk, typing away on her laptop.
“I’ll be right with you,” Mrs. Haversham says. “I just need one—”
She glances up at us—over the top of her computer screen and her purple half-moon glasses—and breaks off mid-sentence the second her gaze meets mine. All of a sudden, she’s jumping up from her desk, her chair clattering back against the wall behind her as she shouts for my uncle.
“Finn, come quick!” She circles out from behind her desk and throws her arms around me. “Grace, it’s so good to see you! I’m so glad you’re here!”
I have no idea what she means, just like I have no idea why she’s hugging me. I mean, Mrs. Haversham is a nice-enough lady, but I had no idea our relationship had progressed from formal greetings to spontaneous and apparently ecstatic embraces.
Still, I return the hug. I even pat her on her back—a little gingerly, but I figure it’s the thought that counts. On the plus side, her soft white curls smell like honey.
“It’s good to see you, too,” I respond as I start to ease back a little, hoping a five-second hug is all that’s necessary in this already bizarre situation.
But Mrs. Haversham is hanging on for the long haul, her arms wrapped around me so tightly that it’s growing a little hard to breathe. Not to mention awkward.
“Finn!” she shouts again, paying no attention to the fact that, thanks to the hug, her red-lipsticked mouth is right next to my ear. “Finn! It’s—”
The door to Uncle Finn’s office flies open. “Gladys, we have an intercom—” He, too, breaks off mid-sentence, his eyes going wide as they find my face.
“Hey, Uncle Finn.” I smile at him as Mrs. Haversham finally releases me from her honeysuckle-scented death grip. “I’m sorry to bother you.”
My uncle doesn’t answer. Instead, he just keeps staring at me, mouth working but absolutely no sound coming out.
And my stomach suddenly feels like it’s full of broken glass.
I may not know what I had for breakfast, but I know one thing for sure… Something is very, very wrong.
2
So…What Did I Miss?
I’m about to work up the courage to ask Uncle Finn what’s going on—he has a history of not lying to me (at least not when directly confronted)—but before I can force the words out of my absurdly dry throat, he yelps, “Grace!”
And then he’s bounding across the office, straight at me.
“Grace, oh my God! Grace! You’re back.”
Back? Why do people keep saying that to me? Where exactly did I go? And why wouldn’t they expect me to come back?
Again I search my memory, and again I slam right into that giant wall. It doesn’t hurt as much this time as it did the first—maybe because the shock has worn off—but it’s still uncomfortable.
Like Mrs. Haversham, Uncle Finn grabs on to me the second he reaches me, his arms going around my back in a huge bear hug, even as his familiar woodsy scent winds its way around me. It’s more comforting than I expect it to be, and I find myself sagging against him a little as I try to figure out what on earth is happening. And why I can’t remember anything that might cause this kind of reaction in my uncle…or anyone else I’ve run into, for that matter.
I was just walking down the hall to class, the same as every other student in the place.
Eventually Uncle Finn pulls back, but only far enough to look at my face. “Grace. I can’t believe you’ve really come back to us. We’ve missed you so much.”
“Missed me?” I repeat, determined to get answers as I take a couple of steps back. “What does that mean? And why is everyone acting like they’ve seen a ghost?”
For a second, just a second, I see a flash of my own panic in the look Uncle Finn shoots the teacher who brought me here. But then his face smooths out and his eyes go blank (which totally isn’t scary at all), and he wraps an arm around my shoulders and