When I turn to Josie, she’s staring at me like I grew a second head. Very quietly she says, “Do I even want to know what’s going on?”

“No.”

She exhales, puffing out her cheeks in frustration—but instantly she’s back to business. “We need the airlock. Let’s go.”

Within minutes, I’m standing at one of the lower windows, watching Paul’s white sub vanish into the murky waters. I press my palm against the cold glass.

“Marguerite?” I turn my head to see Dad walking toward me, concern etched into every line of his face. “Josie’s in a state. She’s told me what happened, or what she thinks happened, but the story doesn’t make a lot of sense. Are you all right?”

I can’t tell whether he remembers himself right now or not. It doesn’t matter.

“I’m all right.” I fish out the other Firebird and put it in his hand. “We’re going home.”

27

I OPEN MY EYES.

This time, there’s no sensation of force, no moment of disorientation. Instead it’s almost as if I nodded off for a moment, then gently woke. Slowly, I look around. Night has fallen here, but only just—the western edge of the sky is still a paler blue, tinted faintly pink at the horizon. I’m sitting on the steps of our deck, wearing my lace dress with my father’s cardigan over it, both hands clasping the Firebird around my neck. In other words, I’m in the exact same position I was when I left a month ago.

“I’m home,” I whisper. “I’m home.”

Quickly I scramble up the back steps and to the sliding glass doors. As usual, Mom hasn’t locked them, so I run inside. The sight of my own house fills me with almost delirious happiness: Piles of paper! Physics equations on the walls! Mom’s potted plants! Even the rainbow table—

—and, sitting on the sofa, Mom.

She gasps, “Marguerite!”

“Mom!” I run to her, but she meets me halfway. Her arms go around me so tightly that I realize anew how badly I must have scared her these past few weeks. “I’m so sorry, Mom, but I made it. We made it.”

“You’re safe? You’re well?” Tears spill down my mother’s face as she brushes my hair back from my face. “But you didn’t hurt Paul, did you? We decoded his note hours after we got yours—”

“Oh, my God, you’re back!” Josie comes barreling out of the kitchen to tackle me onto the sofa. “I’m going to kill you for scaring us like that. But first I have to tell you I love you, you crazy little brat.”

“I love you, too,” I say as I hug her close. “But there’s so much we have to talk about.”

“Triad,” Mom says, and her smile dims, but only slightly. “We know. That doesn’t matter now, sweetheart, as long as you’re home and safe.”

“You know? But how . . .” My voice trails off as a third person steps out of the hallway.

Theo.

He tries to grin at me, but it doesn’t quite work. “Welcome back.”

At first all I can feel is panic. He followed me here, somehow he got out of the sub and followed me here—and then I realize what this actually means. The guy standing here in his Mumford & Sons shirt and cargo pants is my Theo, the one Triad took over months ago so that their spy could act in his place. This Theo would never have done any of this to me or to anybody in my family.

I know that. I believe it. And yet it’s hard to make my heart accept it.

“You know the truth, then. I can see it in your face.” Theo grimaces. “You never used to be scared of me.”

Quickly I say, “I’m not scared. It’s just—it’s a lot to take in. And, yeah. I know.”

“Did he hurt you?” Theo’s voice breaks. “If that son of a bitch hurt you—”

“No,” I say, which almost isn’t a lie.

“And Paul? Is Paul okay?” At that moment, when I see that Theo’s as frightened for Paul as he was for me, I remember the love between them, and that even now, a dimension away, Paul is risking his life to save a Theo he doesn’t even know—and a Theo who tried to kill him.

“Paul’s all right. He’ll come back soon,” I say. Josie breathes out a sigh of relief, and I can see the tension in Theo’s shoulders relax the tiniest amount.

Mom interjects, “Theo came to us the moment Triad’s spy left. He told us everything. But by then it was too late—you were gone, and we knew Triad could get to you and we couldn’t, so there was nothing we could do or even say without endangering you. We’ve been working on our own Firebirds, hoping to follow you, but that work doesn’t go quickly. The last month has been hell.” She sounds more than four weeks older as she says it. “But now you’re here. You’ve come home.”

I wrest myself from Josie’s embrace, my smile returning to my face. “And now we have to go. All of us, right this second.”

“Go where?” Mom asks, frowning.

She doesn’t understand. None of them do. None of them know yet, the best news of all.

“To the university.” I take my mother’s hands to ease the shock, and look into all of their faces in turn before saying, “We have to pick up Dad.”

Despite everything that’s happened to me in the past couple of hours, I’m the only one calm enough to drive. So I steer Josie’s silver Volkswagen through the hilly streets. In the back seat, Mom and Josie are alternating between sobs of joy and horrible moments of doubt. They’re still overwhelmed, still afraid to believe.