India and the Conundrum

Mrs. Silvano closed her eyes and sank down on the bed with a heavy sigh, as if it had taken her last ounce of strength to keep talking for the past hour. Alli knew she should leave her mother to rest now, judging by the look her father gave her, but she stayed frozen in her seat. There were myriad questions running through her mind, questions that needed to be answered; now if her mother was willing.

“B-but,” Alli stammered, “did you never try looking for them? Maybe someone else knew where they were?”

Mrs. Silvano answered without opening her eyes. “They both don’t have any surviving family members now. But just to be sure, I did ask around. I tried to find them! And I’m still looking for them. It’s been, what, fourteen years? No one has any idea where they are, and I spoke to everyone—”

“Everyone?” Mr. Silvano looked up sharply. He took her hand, his knuckles white.

Mrs. Silvano looked away. “Yes, everyone. Even—” Her voice caught. “But no one could, or would, tell me anything. Maybe they truly are gone.”

She took a deep breath, no longer able to continue, but she did not cry, as Alli knew she would. Her mother even attempted a broken, sad smile, which Alli knew was nothing more than a front.

Just like me, she thought. God, exactly like me.

Her father put a hand on her shoulder. “Alli, please,” was the only thing he said, but she understood completely.

“All right,” she said. “I’ll leave you now, and take the jeep to school—”

“Oh, we all forgot!” Her father and mother got up in horror and stared at the clock. “Oh, Alli, I’m so sorry,” Mrs. Silvano began, but Alli shook her head and grinned at her.

“I’m always late, anyway,” she assured them. “It’ll be okay. I can give them an excuse slip tomorrow when you’re all right. Just rest today, Mom.”

“But—”

“It’ll be okay, Mom, Dad. Really.”

With one last glance at her parents, she stood up and walked to the door.

In the hallway, however, she turned and ran back into the room, and wrapped her arms around her mother in a fierce hug. “I’m really, really glad you’re back,” she whispered before she let go of her stunned mother.

She hurried away and closed the door behind her, her cheeks bright pink. From inside she could hear her mother’s sobs. She began to cry as well but more out of relief than anything else.

———-

“What the hell?”

Alli stopped dead in her tracks when she went inside her room and ogled the three girls who looked up at her. Alice seemed exasperated beyond her patience, and looked as if she was about to start strangling someone; Alyssa looked defiant, her head thrown back in a haughty stare; Lisa looked as clueless as ever, and was the only one in the room still smiling. Alli stared at the t-shirts, jeans, and rubber shoes scattered on her bedroom floor, and repeated, “What the hell?”

“It was Alyssa’s bright idea,” Alice said.

“She said your clothes were ugly,” Lisa said cheerfully.

“You said what?” Alli gasped.

“Well, they are,” Alyssa said. She threw up her hands. “Just look at them! They’re so not cool. Let me guess: you’re probably not popular in school, and barely anyone knows you. You probably never even had a guy who liked you, and I mean that way. What? I’m right, aren’t I?”

Alli clenched her fists and wished she could say No, of course not, but she could only look down at the floor and mumble in reluctant agreement.

“Well, I don’t dress coolly but I’m not like that,” Alice cut in. “I’m pretty okay in school, and I have friends who really care about me. Fashion sense doesn’t have anything to do with it—”

“Do you have a boyfriend?” Alyssa retorted, a knowing look in her face. “Or did anyone even court you in your lifetime?”

Two angry splotches of red appeared in Alice’s cheeks. “No,” she said, “but I have this best friend who really does care for me, and sure he never said anything yet, but maybe—”

“You see my point?” Alyssa said to Alice.

“That doesn’t have to be your only ambition in life. That’s pathetic!” Alice yelled. “If you think getting boys is your sole purpose in life, you’re a silly little vain—”

“Excuse me,” Alyssa said. She looked insulted. “Of course I don’t think that! You’re taking it entirely the wrong way.” She turned to Alli. “I think you need to change the way you dress as a start to improving your self-image. That’s all. To make you feel good about yourself. So I’m going replace these, and I’m going to go shopping for new clothes for you. You ought to be ashamed of yourself, you know. You’re so lucky to have Mom around, and yet you dress like this? I’m sure she must be ashamed of having a daughter like you—”

“And what, you’re the model of perfection?” Alice said acidly.

“I try, at least,” Alyssa said. “Not like you. Or you,” she added, pointing an accusing finger at Alli.

“What about me?” Lisa asked.

Alyssa glanced briefly at her, and shrugged. “I really can’t say. You’re too weird.”

“Weird,” Lisa said. “Wow, a lot of people say that about me back home, too. That’s a really nice thing to say, right?” She turned to Alli and Alice, who chose not to say anything.

“But Mom doesn’t mind,” Alli said. “I mean, I used to think she was disappointed with how I am, but now I think she’s actually just worried.”

“She understands,” Alice agreed. “You said that in your world, Mom was the more conservative one before. And that was true here, too, for she used to be just like that—”

“Used to be,” Alyssa snapped. “That’s the point. She’s no longer like that, and I’m sure she wouldn’t want you to go through exactly the same thing she went through before, right? She changed herself, and so should you.”

“But changing your clothes doesn’t mean you’re really changing yourself!” Alice insisted. “There are a lot of other ways to—”

“As I said, it’s a start,” Alyssa said. She shrugged. “There’s nothing else to do, anyway. From what Alice explained to me, I’m stuck here.”

“I’m really sorry about that,” Alice said.

“So am I,” Alyssa said evenly.

“B-but I like the way I dress,” Alli stammered, although even she could hear her lack of conviction. “My clothes are comfortable, and I like it that way. And no matter what I wear I can’t really look pretty, anyway.”

“There you go again with that attitude,” Alyssa said, annoyed. “Stop it!”

“As much as I hate to say it, Alyssa’s right,” Alice said. “You do have a tendency to pity yourself too much, and there’s really no reason to.”

“But you see, I really am not—”

“I’m going to start throwing out these clothes now,” Alyssa said, her lips pressed into one thin line. “I mean it. It’s for your own good!”

“No!” Alli said. “I’m sorry, Alyssa, but please don’t.” When Alyssa glared at her, she hastily added, “You can’t go out anyway, because I don’t think it’s safe.”

Alyssa looked disappointed, but she only shrugged. “Well, you’re right. Can’t have Mom and Dad seeing two of you, huh? But don’t think that I’m not going to keep trying. I think you’re going to give in eventually, anyway.”

“I don’t think so,” Alice said. “Alli has a lot more sense, unlike you. Right, Alli?”

Alli did not reply, and only headed straight to her closet and got her uniform from the group of clothes that had managed to survive Alyssa’s raid. In the bathroom, as she dressed for school and stared at her reflection in the mirror, longer than she usually did, she wondered if she had as much of that sense, if ’sense’ it really was, as Alice credited her for.

———-

“Alli, are you all right?”

They were leaving class that day when Stella asked her the question. Alli tore her gaze away from her reflection in the glass of the school’s front door, and raised an eyebrow at Stella. “I told you, I’m not sick or anything,” she said. “I missed our classes this morning because of my mother, and I got off the wrong jeepney stop on the way here—”

“No,” Stella said after some hesitation, “I mean, that’s the ninth time I’ve seen you check your reflection,” Stella said. “In the past hour. It’s, well, strange.”

Alli blanched. “Oh. I have been doing it far too much, haven’t I?”

“Yes, actually.”

Alli laughed a little to cover her embarrassment. “It’s, er, my cousin’s fault. She said that I needed to have, er, a makeover. She thinks it the reason why I’m so pathetic.”

“Oh,” Stella said. “I’m sorry. What a mean thing to say.”

Alli bit her lip. “Well, yes. She did call my clothes ugly, and that hurt. But maybe she has a point.”

“Don’t listen to her,” Stella said. “I don’t think you’re pathetic, even though I know you believe so. Don’t deny it, I know you do. And you’re wrong.” She waved away Alli’s protests. “Well, maybe that was the only way she knew how to show that she cared?”

“Really?” Alli burst out. Her knee-jerk reaction to Stella’s statement was disbelief. She remembered how spiteful Alyssa was that morning, but after thinking about it, she grinned. “How about that? What if Alyssa does care? I still don’t believe it, actually, but I’m sure it’ll really annoy her if I tell her that.”

Stella laughed. “That’s one way to get back at her, don’t you think?” They both laughed so hard they had to stop walking, and they both leaned against the wall to keep from collapsing on the floor.

Their laughter had barely subsided when Morgan rushed toward them. His lips were pursed as always, as if he was constantly suffering from constipation, Alli thought with a barely suppressed grin. “Hi, Morgan,” she said shakily as she tried to keep from laughing.

“Silvano,” Morgan said. “I’m glad to see you. We’re going to have a meeting again this afternoon.”

“But we already had a meeting three days ago!”

“It’s urgent,” Morgan said. “I heard about a contest that the club could join, and the deadline is next month. Already!”

“Yes, because that’s really, really soon,” Stella whispered to her, and Alli now had to cover her mouth to hide her smile.

“And there’s still the exhibit to talk about too,” Morgan said. He wrung his hands. “Sir Al’s going to need some sort of update, and I only have a few submissions. He’s coming today, and we really have to present something to him—”

“Oh, he’s coming? That’s great!” Alli said.

“Yes, yes,” Morgan said absently. “Do come, all right, Silvano? I’m still trying to chase down the other members. If I didn’t know better, I’d think they were avoiding me. Shirking their responsibilities, the lot of them, how annoying.” He walked away, still muttering.

“I think I’d probably hide from him too,” Stella said, in earnest.

Alli sighed. “I do have to attend, though,” she said. “I’m not going home with you, then. Maybe I could ask my Dad to pick me up again.”

“My Mom and I will wait for you,” Stella said. “And don’t worry, we really don’t mind.”

“But the meeting will probably drag on and on, with Morgan—”

“That’s all right,” Stella said, her tone final, leaving no room for argument. “I’m not going to let you go home alone, what with happened to you this morning.”

Alli laughed sheepishly. “I think I need practice, that’s all. But all right. Thanks, Stella.” She smiled at her friend.

“I know,” Stella said. “I’m so nice, aren’t I?” She grinned. “Just kidding.”

“But you are,” Alli murmured. “Well, at least that makes me feel better about going to the meeting. And at least it’ll be entertaining, since Sir Al’s going to be there.” And Sam, too, she added in her head, and the thought made her smile.

———-

Lisa crept down the stairs, and winced at every creak of the floorboards. The door to the room of Alli’s parents were still closed when she passed it, and she hoped they would not hear the noise she was making. She didn’t want to give Alli any more trouble than she already had, but she had to get food for them now, too. She was really hungry, and she knew Alice and Alyssa were, too. She thought that maybe it explained their short tempers, because when she had left the room unnoticed, Alyssa and Alice were still bickering like they had been that entire morning.

She didn’t know why Alice didn’t like Alyssa, because she had thought the other girl was very nice. Even though she didn’t understand everything Alyssa said, she felt happy for that meant more new things to learn.

She opened the refrigerator door, and took out a loaf of bread, the plastic containing last night’s leftover chicken, and a still-unopened box of processed cheese. After a moment’s thought, she got a can of luncheon meat from the shelf, too.

She was struggling with all these when her father came up behind her and exclaimed, “Alli? You’re still here? You didn’t go to school?”

“Oh, D-dad!” Lisa dropped everything she was carrying in her surprise. She backed away from him, her eyes wide. “I-I w-was—”

She hit the dining table, and she knew that she had done something really, really wrong. With a sense of impending doom she turned and saw the vase that served as the centerpiece for the table…before it toppled over with a resounding crash.

“Oh no!” Mr. Silvano said. “Your mother really loved that vase!”

“Oh, oh, I’m really sorry!” She dived under the table to at least help clean up the pieces of the broken vase.

———-

Upstairs, Alyssa had finally become exasperated with the utterly pointless and stupid argument with Alice, and she stomped out of the room in a huff, intending to get food for herself despite Alice’s warnings. That Alice! She was so stubborn and irritating! Even more irritating than Alli and her wretched self-pity, and Lisa and her naiveté. But on second thought, she found Lisa somewhat endearing in a way.

Her stomach rumbled as she tiptoed down towards the dining room, much to her embarrassment. She wrinkled at the smell coming from the storage room under the stairs. She was about to grumble that someone ought to start doing some serious cleaning soon when she arrived at the dining room and froze. Lisa and her—Alli’s—father were right in front of her.

She managed to stifle a gasp when the vase fell. She was about to run back to Alli’s room so Mr. Silvano wouldn’t see her, but right at that moment, her mother’s voice floated down the stairs. “Albert, what was that?”

And to Alyssa’s horror, she heard the sound of her mother’s footsteps hurrying toward them, cutting off her only escape route.

———-

Alli saw Sam just before he entered the classroom where the Papyrus meeting was going to be held, and he hung back at the door when he saw her.

Alli smiled at him, then grimaced as she heard Morgan’s shrill voice whining incoherently inside. “Ugh,” she said. “Morgan’s probably mad about something again. You know, I really can’t believe him sometimes.”

“He’s really not so bad,” Sam said with a shrug. “It’s nothing compared to how he gets in class, especially in class plays. We’re in the same section, you see.”

“I’m sorry,” Alli said before she could stop herself.

“We all survive somehow.” He grinned at her, and Alli returned it; but she was struck again by how sad he still looked despite it. They entered the classroom together, her eyebrows furrowed as she puzzled over this again.

“Alli? I didn’t know you were a member too!”
Alli’s heart sank suddenly as she looked up, and realized who spoke to her. Cecilia waved and went on, “You should have told me that you were signing up too! None of my friends wanted to, you know, but I really like writing, so I did anyway even if I knew my friends wouldn’t be with me. It is a great relief to see a classmate here, though.”

“I didn’t know, Cecilia,” Alli said, trying hard to keep the disappointment from her voice. “Since you weren’t in the meeting last time.”

“Oh, Faces had a meeting at the same time, too,” Cecilia said, referring to the Theater club. “And I really had to be there, since we had to practice a scene with my character in it. I only was able to attend today because volleyball practice was canceled.”

“Wow,” Alli muttered. “There really is nothing you can’t do, huh?”

“Alli?” Sam asked softly.

She looked up at him and flushed at the look of concern on his face. She wondered if he heard her. “It’s nothing,” she said. She sat down beside Cecilia without another word, and Sam sat down beside her. After introducing Cecilia to Sam and vice-versa she kept silent as Cecilia chatted on.

Sir Al burst into the room just as Cecilia was beginning to talk about Neil, much to Alli’s relief. For a moment Alli actually thought she saw the entire room brighten because of his presence—or that could just have been because of the almost blinding neon green color of the sneakers he was wearing.

“Good afternoon, everyone!” he greeted them, his voice bouncing off the walls, and plopped down his bag on the desk. “I’m so glad to see all of you, and I hope you’re all well! And not only well, but happy! Are you, Morgan?”

“Well, sir,” Morgan began, “not really, sir.”

“That’s really too bad,” Sir Al said. “For I believe that writing should give you pleasure and not more grief. Don’t you think so too?”
Most of the students nodded, and some even laughed at Morgan’s obvious discomfort. “Well, judging by their expressions, I think most of the members agree, but they also want to leave as soon as possible,” Sir Al said cheerfully. “So what do you say we get this meeting done as soon as possible?”

Thank you, thank you, Alli thought.

Morgan nodded, only too glad to be in charge again. “Let’s start, then,” he said. “First order of business: the haiku-writing contest, sponsored by the Japanese Embassy. A haiku, as you know, is a poetic form from the Japanese culture, and though extremely short, shorter and infinitely simpler than other forms of classic poetry, manages to convey profound meanings in its compact form. Many of the themes include nature, although contemporary examples of the form have now…”

“‘As you know’?” Alli murmured. “If he really thinks we know it, why does he have to explain everything in detail?”

“Morgan’s really like that,” Sam said. “He doesn’t trust a lot of people to really understand these things.”

Cecilia laughed at that and gave up listening as well. “I didn’t know you write, Alli. What sort of things do you write? Fiction? Poetry?”

“I don’t, not really,” Alli said. “I was only forced to join. So I haven’t really tried writing yet—”

They looked up as Morgan suddenly coughed loudly, and he directed a glare at them, which seemed to bring death itself.

“Tan, Silvano, Rivera,” he thundered. “I see that you three are already such experts in haiku writing. Would you care to demonstrate to our other club members?”

Sam meekly stood up while Cecilia marched straight away to the blackboard. Alli stayed glued to her seat.

“But I don’t know how to write a haiku!” Alli whispered to Sam, twisting her arms in panic. “Well, I do, technically, but I don’t know how to write a good one.”

“This is wonderful, wonderful, Cecilia, Allisana, Samuelson!” Sir Al said as he wandered over to their seats, two pieces of chalk in hand. “It always makes me happy to read my students’ works. I’m thrilled to see what all of you will come up with!”

Sam took one piece of chalk, and put the other on Alli’s desk when she still would not take it. “You know, maybe you’re better than you think,” he said to her.

“I’m not,” Alli said at the same moment that Cecilia finished writing. Alli read Cecilia’s haiku and knew she could never, ever write like that:

Rainbow

A sea of color,
Rises from the earth, renews
a promise of life.

“Sorry,” Cecilia said. “It was the best I could do at short notice.”

Morgan scrutinized the poem with narrowed eyes. “Why did you pick words with so many ‘r’s in it? I think you could have chosen words with a softer sound since—”

Sam looked at Alli before he went on to the blackboard. Alli still did not move and tried to figure out how to phrase her refusal to Morgan and to Sir Al. Sir Al seemed to be looking forward to her poem so much, which warmed her, but she knew he would only be disappointed. She wished she had the ring with her now, for it would make everything so much easier—

“Well, isn’t that cheesy,” Morgan said as he glared at what Sam had written. Alli looked up, and read:

You can overcome
anything and everything,
if you just believe.

“And horribly cliché,” Morgan added.

“Sorry,” Sam said with a little laugh. “I can try again.” He glanced at Alli with a small, encouraging nod.

Alli took the chalk then, and strode toward the blackboard. I can do it by myself, she thought, a determined look set in her face. I can.

She began to write.

———-

Alyssa was still panicking and wondering what she was going to do now, when Mr. Silvano whirled around at the sound of his wife’s voice, and stared at Alyssa. “Weren’t you—”

Alyssa found no other choice but to run to the table and block Lisa from view. “Sorry about the vase, Dad,” she said, choosing instead to sidestep Mr. Silvano’s question. “You startled me, that was all. I’ll clean up.”

She dived under the table and found Lisa near tears. “I’m really sorry,” she said. “I only wanted to get the three of us some food, and—”

“Sshh!” Alyssa hissed. “We’ll get out of this somehow, or Alice will kill us. And I really hate it when she’s right.”

“Did you say something?” Mr. Silvano said, but no longer was able to wait for an answer, for Mrs. Silvano came into the room. “Oh, hi, dear. Alli knocked over the vase my mother gave us for our wedding—”

“Oh,” Mrs. Silvano said, and Alyssa thought she actually sounded relieved. “That means we can buy a new one?”

“Yes,” Mr. Silvano said, “but it was such a lovely vase!”

“Alli, you don’t need to clean that up,” Mrs. Silvano said. “I’ll take care of it later. You’ll cut yourself—”

“In a minute, Mom,” Alyssa called out. She turned to Lisa. “Listen. You go out first, and I’ll follow when the coast is clear—”

“But you cannot see the sea from here,” Lisa said.

“What? Oh, darn it, I didn’t mean that coast!” Alyssa shook her head in exasperation. “I’ll stay here until Mom and Dad go back to their room. Okay? Pretend you’re Alli for the time being.”

“But it’s so dark here,” Lisa said. “And scary. Will you be all right?”

“Go!” Alyssa said, and pushed her out from under the table.

She watched as Lisa apologized again for her blunder, which both Mr. and Mrs. Silvano forgave heartily (even though Mr. Silvano still sniffed a little, miffed). She gave them both a hug and tearful kisses on the cheeks, and she went on her way.

Alyssa took a peek at her parents’ faces, and though Mrs. Silvano was frowning, they did not talk about suspecting anything amiss. She sank back in the cover of darkness with a sigh of relief.

———

“What’s wrong?” Mr. Silvano asked his wife when they got back to their room. “I’d know that look anywhere. You’re worried about something.”

“It sometimes can be annoying how well you know me,” Mrs. Silvano said. “It’s, um—” She bit her lower lip.

“What?” Mr. Silvano prompted.

“Down there with Alli,” she said. “For a moment, I thought I saw a mark on her forehead too. The same mark Anna had.”

“Are you sure?” Mr. Silvano said. “I didn’t see anything.”

“I know,” Mrs. Silvano sighed.

“Sorry,” Mr. Silvano said. “I should start paying more attention, shouldn’t I?”

Mrs. Silvano shook her head and smiled at him. “It’s all right. Maybe it was nothing, anyway.”

———-

“That was really, really good, I must say, Alli!” Cecilia said. The meeting had ended long ago, but they were all still laughing as they walked to the parking lot. “Morgan looked ready to kill you!”

“I can’t believe I did something like that too,” Alli said. She grinned at Cecilia and Sam, full of mischief. “But it was the only thing I could think of.”

“It really was priceless,” Sam agreed.

Cecilia recited Alli’s haiku again:

The whole class feels bored
Nobody is listening
To poor old Morgan.

“Everyone liked it,” Sam said. “Even Sir Al. Morgan, on the other hand—”

“He was so angry he got back at me by giving me that urgent assignment for the school folio,” Alli said. “Which we’re going to release in, what, three months? I really don’t know how I’m going to cram in a 6000-word story tonight with homework and all. But I think it was well worth it. Whoever said I was referring to him, anyway? He was the only one I knew who had a two-syllable name, so I used it. That was all.”

“We should always have writing activities like these,” Sam said.

“If the results would always be this entertaining, why not?” Cecilia said. She turned away from them, and waved to someone in the distance. “Oh, there’s Neil. How sweet of him to wait for me, don’t you think, Alli? Well, see you, then.”

“Mm-hmm,” was all Alli could mumble. She watched Cecilia as she joined Neil and felt again a jolt of pain, but which was strangely muted.

“I liked your other haiku too, by the way,” Alli said to Sam as she turned away from Cecilia and Neil. “The one about the rain and a family disappearing. It was sad, but I liked it. Why are your poems always so sad?”

Sam blinked. “Are they? Well, not really—”

You always seem sad, Alli wanted to say, but decided it might not be any of her business. “Anyway, thanks,” she said shyly.

“Huh? Why?” Sam said.

“For all the encouragement,” Alli said. “And the haiku you wrote. It really helped a lot.”

“You did it all by yourself, actually,” Sam said. He smiled at her again, and this time, the sadness in his eyes faded a little. “Well, there’s Mr. Fermia and our car. Is your father there already?”

“No, but Stella and her mother will be bringing me home,” Alli said. “Thanks again. And see you.”

“See you.”

She walked toward Stella’s car, a lightness in her step. Stella seemed to note her mood, because when Alli got into the car, Stella said teasingly, “Ooh, someone’s really happy. You saw Neil, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” Alli said. “But it’s not that.”

“What then?” Stella asked, leaning forward.

“Because you were right,” Alli said with a smile from ear to ear, “I’m not really as pathetic as I thought I was.”

———-

Alli was in good spirits even when she arrived home, even when her father looked aghast when he opened the gate for her. “I thought you stayed home all day!” he said. “I saw you! Your mother did too!”

“I left eventually,” Alli said cheerfully, not wishing to let the fact that one of her alter egos probably got careless ruin her good mood. She kissed her father and went to the house, and after stopping by to see her mother (who also looked shocked to see her dressed in her uniform), headed straight for her room. She straightened out the story from her alter egos, and even managed to stop Alice and Alyssa from bickering for fifteen minutes as she told them about her day; and after eating dinner, she started on the story.

She was at a loss at first about what to write, and was about to go back to being anxious again when Alyssa said snottily, “Well, the events in your life haven’t been exactly normal, have they? And Mom’s story, too. Why don’t you write about that then? Honestly.” And Alice reluctantly agreed that such a story would be intriguing.

So with that problem solved, she began to write. The story turned out more difficult than she thought, however, and after working on it for the most part of the evening and morning, she barely had enough time left to work on her homework as well. Alice had stayed up with her while Lisa and Alyssa both slept, and even helped proofread and edit the story.

It was five-thirty in the morning when the last of the pages were finally printed. She held the bundle in her hand and showed them to Alice like a proud mother. “I didn’t know it was this fulfilling to finish one,” she said. “I don’t know if I’m any good at it, but I enjoyed doing it. Sir Al says that’s the point, really.”

“He’s right,” Alice said. “At least I think so. Anyway, see? That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“Oh, no,” Alli said. “It really was hard, believe me.” She yawned. “I wasn’t able to sleep at all. I’m exhausted. I think I’ll get a cup of coffee from downstairs while Mom and Dad are still asleep. Do you want some?”

“No, thanks,” Alice said. “I’ll go to sleep now. ‘Night.”

“Good morning,” Alli said.

She went down the stairs, still yawning, and stretched out her arms when she got to the bottom. She stopped when she suddenly smelled something in the air—something really bad—and realized that it was coming from the storage closet underneath the stairs.

Maybe a rat? she thought. But it smelled different. And felt different, however strange that may seem—

She felt her heart beating fast, even when she did not know why. She stopped at the door, wondering if she should open it right now, or wait until someone else was with her.
Something was in there, something that she strangely felt that she probably should not handle alone—

“‘Morning, Alli,” Mr. Silvano said, coming down the stairs, and Alli turned to him, relieved. “You’re up pretty early today—God, what is that smell?”

“I don’t know, Dad,” Alli said. “It’s coming from the storage closet.”

“We do need to do some cleaning around here,” her father said with a yawn. He opened the door, and the full blast of the smell hit them. Alli leaned on the wall, gagging, while her father covered his nose, fully awake now.

“What in the world?” he muttered. He felt around for the light switch, and when he found it he turned it on, flooding the room with incandescent light.

Her father screamed once, and he ran out of the room, shaking uncontrollably and mumbling words Alli could not understand. “Dad? What’s wrong? What?” But when he still could not speak coherently, Alli went to the room herself, and saw what was inside.

She screamed.

For inside was another Allisana, lying in a dark brown, almost black, pool of what appeared to be dried blood. Her eyes were wide open, staring at a picture of Mr. and Mrs. Silvano in an open photo album o