The clock kept ticking in the other room. I wiped the peanut butter off my face

and looked at Nico pleadingly, like Can we get out of here now?

 

"Ma'am," Nico said. "What, uh . . . what happened to your eyes?"

 

Her gaze seemed fractured — like she was trying to focus on him through a

kaleidoscope. "Why, Luke, you know the story. It was right before you were bom,

wasn't it? I'd always been special, able to see through the . . .

whatever-they-call-it."

 

"The Mist?" I said.

 

"Yes, dear." She nodded encouragingly. "And they offered me an important job.

That's how special I was!"

 

I glanced at Nico, but he looked as confused as I was.

 

"What sort of job?" I asked. "What happened?"

 

Ms. Castellan frowned. Her knife hovered over the sandwich bread. "Dear me, it

didn't work out, did it? Your father warned me not to try. He said it was too

dangerous. But I had to. It was my destiny! And now ... I still can't get the

images out of my head. They make everything seem so fuzzy. Would you like some

cookies?"