But at least she’d have her friends to keep her company.
“Wait here,” Ms. Parkly whispered as the Misfits came into the starkly empty lobby of the auditorium. She approached one door of the theater and then sounded a peculiar knock. Ridley figured it must be another type of code—something that Vernon’s Magic Circle had agreed upon—because next, there was the click of a lock being undone and the door creaked open wide. It looked dark inside the theater, with only the single bulb of a ghost light standing upon the stage. Ridley could see figures moving in the murk.
Then she heard a familiar voice. “Friends!” Mr. Vernon’s face appeared to slide out of the shadows as he stepped into the lobby light.
“Dad!” Leila cheered.
“Dante!” Carter cried out.
They both ran to embrace the tall man with the curly white mop of hair who was dressed, as usual, in a sharp black tuxedo and cape lined with red silk.
Ridley knew he was the same man she had adored for years, but somehow he looked different. She wished that Kalagan had kept the stupid secret awful letter to himself.
(But that’s the thing about revenge—its blast radius is wide and usually circles more than only the intended target. Take my advice: Leave revenging to characters in Westerns and samurai movies, where it belongs!)
Ridley felt Theo and the twins sidle up behind her, just as Mr. Vernon glanced out at them. He held his arms aloft, as if he had the power to bring them closer to him. It seemed to work, because soon, all of the Misfits were huddled around the magician. “I’m so glad you’re all here, that you’re all safe. Is everyone okay? How did you travel here?” he asked. They all started to talk at once, to assure their older friend that they were strong and brave and ready. Ridley thought to herself: Yeah, but we’re still only a bunch of kids. We shouldn’t have to be all of those things. Not yet.
“Where’s Poppa?” Leila asked, peering into the darkness behind Mr. Vernon.
“Here I am, honey,” came a warm voice from the shadows. The Other Mr. Vernon waved. Leila raced ahead and threw her arms around his soft middle. His big arms nearly encompassed her entire head. “Come in, all of you,” said the Other Mr. Vernon. “Quickly. And lock that door, Helena, please.” Ms. Parkly did as he asked, and then followed the group into the auditorium.
Ridley eased her chair down the aisle, past the many rows of seats, closer to the glow of that single bulb shining from the otherwise pitch-black stage. When everyone reached the front row, they gathered together as if around a campfire. The Other Mr. Vernon revealed a tray filled with freshly baked chocolate chip cookies and passed it around the group. As Ridley grabbed two of the biggest cookies, she realized how hungry she actually was. Her mother was probably home from her appointment by now and might have started making dinner. Ridley wished that she had remembered to leave a note. Her mother might not have seen it, or if so, she might not have read it, but Ridley imagined it to be something that an ordinary daughter would have done for an ordinary mother.
Mr. Vernon stood before them. “By now, I imagine that Ms. Parkly has likely told you about your guardians.” The Misfits whispered affirmatively. “I’m sorry for once again keeping you all in the dark, but I figured the less you knew about my friends who were keeping you safe, the safer you all would be.”
“We’re sorry too,” said Leila. “We didn’t tell you the whole truth either. That’s why Kalagan ended up coming for us in the cave.”
Mr. Vernon smiled kindly. “You can tell us now,” he suggested. The Other Mr. Vernon put down the tray of cookies and took his husband’s hand.
“We have lots to tell you,” said Ridley, making sure it was clear to everyone that despite her misgivings, she had chosen to trust their mentor. “Maybe Carter can start?”
Carter shuddered. He told the Vernons about Kalagan’s alter ego as his uncle, Sylvester Beaton.
Of course, the Vernons had questions galore. When everyone had said what they’d wanted to say about it, Ridley knew it was time to get to the heart of the matter. Retrieving the taped-together confession letter from the compartment in the arm of her chair, she spoke up before her nerves could take hold. “Mr. Vernon, we need to show you something.” He looked