How I’d convince the person to keep quiet about what had happened was another matter entirely, but I could focus on only one obstacle at a time.

Remy gave me a look that said he understood. We’d told him earlier that morning about the bullets we’d found both on Jenkins and in the cave, but he and I hadn’t managed to have a second alone since breakfast, so we hadn’t gotten to talk freely about Black Mailbox Bill’s e-mails. And since then, I’d even received another one, though it was just a prompt.

Friend? Bill had written. Please reply so I know you’re all right.

I hadn’t had a chance yet; for one thing, taking my rubber gloves out to type on my phone in the midst of all this might draw attention, and until I knew for sure that the alien wasn’t contained to me, I wasn’t going to drag them any deeper into this.

For another, every time I looked at my phone, I worried Sofía would mind-meld with me and find out about the e-mails in the worst possible way.

“At least we’ll get some kind of answer,” Remy said, pulling his gaze from mine. “Assuming the video camera actually caught anything.”

“It will have,” Arthur said confidently, then turned and led the way back out of the cave.

I tried to hang back with Remy, but there was no discreet way for us to talk about Bill or the e-mails or anything else, and when we reached the cave mouth, we shared one last look and crouched to crawl out.

“We’ll figure it out,” he whispered, and I clung to that promise as if it were one he could actually keep.

The camera battery was, as we’d expected, dead. Levi had brought a fresh one and a backup memory card, but now he wanted to go right back to his house and pore over the footage. The sun was almost down, though, and Arthur was intent on getting back to the Jenkins House for his mysterious Operation Franny.

Plus, every minute Nick put off seeing the piano seemed to bring him closer to the brink of implosion.

So we set off again, hoods up and flashlights off.

We reached the back of the Jenkins House and crept around it silently, but it was like Remy had said: Though caution tape still hung in loose knots along the fence, the wind had ripped it into tattered ribbons, and the temporary lights, Bobcats, and everything else were gone.

Inside the house, we turned our flashlights back on, catching the ghostly patterns of dust kicked up from the floor.

“Stand in a circle,” Arthur commanded, taking his place directly in front of the HAPPY BIRTHDAY banner.

Sofía lifted an eyebrow and folded her arms. “Why?”

“Why do you think?” I said. “Because he wants this to be as dramatic as possible.”

Arthur lifted one shoulder. “Excuse me for wanting some decorum.”

“Where’s the piano?” Nick glanced around like he expected it to come barreling into the room with a machine gun.

“First things first,” Arthur said. “Now stand in a circle.”

Nick seemed put out that Arthur wasn’t as interested in exploring his piano lead as he was in my new ability, but apparently he was too anxious to look into it by himself, because he sidled up with the others around the overturned coffee table.

“Maybe we should hold hands?” Levi said.

I shook my head. “Or maybe that would turn me into a human electric chair.”

“Hands free it is,” Sofía said. “Now what?”

Arthur looked at me. “Why don’t you just start with the ceiling fan?”

He made it sound so easy, but if I couldn’t make the tracks switch on command, I didn’t see why this would be different.

Still, the others were watching, hopeful, and Black Mailbox Bill’s warnings kept running through my head. I needed to get a handle on this; to know how to stop it from happening, knowing how to start it was probably a good step.

I inhaled deeply and focused on the fan and the trio of light bulbs that blossomed from its center.

Was this even something I could control?

For all I knew, the being was calling the shots.

Icy dread dripped into my stomach, but I fixed my thoughts on the fan. I imagined it turning. Pictured current crackling through me, leaping toward the wiring hidden behind the drywall.

I dropped my gaze. Levi, Remy, Arthur, Sofía, and Nick were leaning toward me with bated breath. “Could you not stare?” I said. “It’s too much pressure.”

Arthur nodded. “Let’s all turn around.”

Still in our arbitrary ceremonial circle, they turned their backs, and I focused on the fan again.

This time, I leaned into the memory of light erupting from the disc. The pain branching across my skull under my scalp, and the humanoid light-face appearing before me for an instant.

But when the memory vanished, the living room was still dark.

“I can’t do it.”

“It’s okay,” Sofía said. “You don’t have to do anything.”

“She does,” Arthur snapped.

“Arthur,” Remy said harshly.

“She’s the one it chose to give this to,” Arthur said, anger sneaking into his voice. “It could’ve given it to any of us, but it chose her, and she’s going to figure out how to use it.” He flashed me a dark look. “Come on. I know what to do.”

He broke the circle and marched past the staircase, turning to the kitchen at the back of the house, and we tripped along after him.