Mom leaned against the kitchen counter with a hand over her mouth like she was deep in thought. But the stiffness of her shoulders gave away her shock.

Pine sat on the floor, propped up against the refrigerator, wearing my grandpa's sweatpants and a patchwork quilt pulled over his head like a hood. We'd let him pick out whatever he wanted to eat from the pantry. So far, he'd snacked through half a jar of olives and was still going strong.

"Are you sure that's all you want?" Mom asked him. "Just the olives?" Her voice was surprisingly steady. She treated Pine like I'd invited him over after school, not resurrected him in our front yard. She even had a kettle warming up on the stove.

Pine gave her one polite nod. That was like his go-to move. He hadn't said a thing since he got here. Not out loud, anyway.

You can talk if you want, I said to Pine. Earlier this evening, I'd pushed a few layers into his senses to figure out how much he could hear. Voices came through all faded and smudgy, mostly erased from the air. But my magic was acting as a kind of translator, feeding him subtitles of everything I heard. And Crow could speak English, so it made sense that Pine could, too, if he wanted. I think you can access my language.

Under cinnamon dust freckles, his cheeks turned red. I'm still figuring out how to form the sounds. And I might be too loud. Sometimes I can't tell.

That's okay. We don't mind.

He rubbed the back of his neck. I don't know your mom very well yet. This is better for now.

That's okay too. I gave him a thumbs up. If there's something you want to say, I can be middleman.

He copied my thumbs up.

"Are you—" Mom hesitated. "Are you having a psychic conversation?"

"Oh." Honestly, I was so used to talking to Pine in my head, I didn't even realize how weird we must look. "Yeah. I'm connected to everybody I summon, and with Pine I can talk and share pictures and stuff."

Like a laptop running too many programs at once, her response came a little delayed. "Okay."

Someone knocked on the door.

Mom hurried to open it. "Thank goodness you're here," she said, keeping her voice low.

Dr. Jacobs stepped inside, dripping rain, a trash bag slung over her shoulder. "I brought some of my son's old clothes. Thought you could use 'em." She set the bag down and hung her soaked hat by the door.

Martina came in after her, a rain jacket and high-top sneakers slapped over her Hello Kitty pajama pants, messy bun, and hot pink arm cast. She offered Mom a grocery bag. A heavy paper sack hung from her other hand. "I swung by Tiger Corner and got a toothbrush and some body wash and"—she scratched her head—"I don't know, I just started grabbing stuff. He might not even want it." She raised the paper sack. "And the bakery was closing, so I also got muffins."

"Thank you," Mom said. "To be honest I'm just taking this one step at a time."

They came into the kitchen. Dr. Jacobs stopped so hard in the doorway that Martina bumped into her from behind. They stared.

"Sweet Moses in a basket," Dr. Jacobs said under her breath.

Martina just stood there, frozen. The sack of muffins crinkled in her white-knuckle grip.

Pine hunched over his knees, fingers threaded, and sized them up out of the corner of his eye. He glanced at me, clearly uncomfortable being the center of attention. Is this going well?

Honestly, better than I expected. I switched off our link for a moment and whispered to everybody else, "Say something before he thinks we don't want him here." So much for Southern hospitality.

Dr. Jacobs eased down to the hardwood floor, holding back a groan. She sat a little ways from Pine, giving him space. "I'm Dr. Jacobs," she said. "But maybe you already know that."

Pine looked at her through his bangs and gave her his respectful nod.

I expected her to ask him six million questions, but all she said was, "This must be a lot to take in."

He sighed through his nose. His shoulders slumped and his face softened.

"Strong and silent. You got a little John Wayne in you." She smiled and reached out for a handshake. "I'm pleased to meet you."

After a long moment, Pine rummaged around in the olive jar and dropped one in her open hand.

She flipped the olive into the air like a quarter and let out a laugh. "I like you, cowboy."

Mom took the kettle off the stove. She made coffee for the adults and poured cocoa for me and Pine. Martina sat down with me, Pine, and Dr. Jacobs and passed out the Tiger Corner muffins. They were banana nut, still kinda warm, and so big I had to eat mine with both hands.

Pine's was gone in two bites.

I had to save him before he swallowed the wrapper. In the end, I gave him the bottom half of my muffin.

He didn't even seem to care that it wasn't the good part.

"So." I rested my cheek in my hand and oozed a smarmy smile at Mom as she handed me my cocoa. Satisfaction this juicy didn't come along every day. I'd only get one, maybe two moments this delicious in my whole life. "Believe me now?"

She pulled a stool up to the circle and sat on it, taking a long sip of her coffee before saying, "I guess I do."

"Do I get my phone back?"

"After lying to me for a week? Don't push it."

I shrugged and went for a sip of cocoa. And suddenly—

Magic burst out of me. My mug clonked to the floor, spilling hot chocolate. I dropped forward on my curled-up hands and groaned through my teeth as an invisible branding iron pushed out from inside my chest.

Pine lunged forward, but Mom beat him to me.

"Cecelia." She knelt in front of me and grabbed me by the arms. "What's wrong, Baby? Where does it hurt?"

The Crow? Pine asked.

Yeah. I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to hold in my magic, but it was gushing like steam out of a broken pipe. That muffin top was fighting its way back up my throat.

Then, as quick as Crow snatched me up and squeezed the life out of me—he let me go.

I slumped against my mom and gasped to catch my breath.

"It's okay." She combed her fingers through my curls. "You're okay." Her voice held steady like a promise, but there was this tremble in her hands that gave away the truth.

I was so not okay. And there was nothing she could do about it.

"Ambulance?" Martina fumbled her phone out of her pajama pants pocket with the one arm that wasn't trapped in a hot pink cast. "Should we call an ambulance?"

"No, no." I pulled all my strength together and forced myself to sit up straight. This wasn't a job for a doctor. "It's Crow. The other Neanderthal."

Martina's phone slipped out of her hands. She barely caught it in time. "There's another one?"

Everybody looked at Pine.

He raised his hands to defend himself. The shadow in his eyes made it clear he had about as much love for Crow as he would for a baby-eating lion.

"He's stealing my magic," I said. "I think he just summoned something."

"Have you felt this before?" Mom asked.

"Just once. When he summoned Tenontosaurus." I put my hand on my chest, over the still-raw spot where my magic had spilled out. My head was starting to clear. "But the second time he raised it, I didn't feel anything. This must be how it feels when he calls soulshine out of something totally new."

Dr. Jacobs eased to her feet, grabbed a dish towel off the oven, and dropped it over the cocoa puddle spreading across the floor. She tapped it down with the toe of her boot to soak up the mess. "What exactly does this boogeyman want?"

"He's kind of handcuffed to me by my magic. I think that freaks him out, not knowing how much control I have or if I'm watching him. And I don't think he likes depending on me." I took a breath. "He also wants my power. And he doesn't want to share."

"What do you reckon he wants it for?"

He said something last night, Pine said. Something about bringing our people back.

I didn't know if that was just talk. A lie Crow told to get Pine on his side. But I wasn't gonna rule it out. "Pine says he might want to bring back more people like them."

"Neanderthals?" Dr. Jacobs asked.

"He wants to meet up. But I think it's just so he can steal the rest of my magic." I had to brace myself to say the last part out loud. "And kill me."

Mom covered her face and took a deep breath through her nose. Slowly, she moved her hands back, pulling at her eyelids and smoothing her super-short buzzcut, until her fingers were locked behind her neck and her head hung between her knees.

"He might just want to kidnap me and hold me somewhere." It wasn't until I said that out loud that I realized that didn't make it better. "Although, he did kill Pine." Getting worse.

"Why would he kill you?" Martina asked. "Wouldn't that—?"

"Poof him?" I finished. "Maybe. Either we go down together, or he goes on without me and gets to keep all my power." I shrugged, focusing on the floor. "Pine says he'll probably roll those dice if he has to. See what happens."

Mom rested a soft hand on my arm. "Where is he now?" Her voice came out quiet, dark as Hades.

"If he's summoning, he might be back at the museum." I sure hoped not. I really wasn't looking forward to dealing with more out-of-control dinosaur soulshine.

Maybe he was just hanging out at the state park, resurrecting a roadkill bunny, or a squished butterfly, or Bambi's mom.

Right.

"I could try to get into his brain and figure out where he is. But every time I do that, he catches me." I hugged myself. "If I'm honest, I'd rather not try again."

There was a long pause.

Martina broke the silence. "So now we call the cops, right?"

Mom whipped out her cell and tapped 911 into the dial pad. "There's a child murderer stalking my daughter, of course I'm calling the cops."

"Just like that?" Normally she was so wound up about keeping our magic secret. I sort of figured we'd handle this on our own.

"Yes, just like that. You think I'm gonna blow him away myself? Do I look like The Rock?" She paused, her thumb hovering over the green call button.

Dr. Jacobs took a seat on the stool and folded her arms. "But?"

"But I might not tell them everything." Mom looked up from her phone and glanced between Martina and Dr. Jacobs. "Right now, nobody except the people in this room knows that Cecelia has summoning magic. She's invisible. I want to try and keep it that way, or she'll be in more danger than she already is."

Dr. Jacobs nodded. "We'll follow your lead."

"Sure," Martina said quietly.

"Thank you." Mom got up, put the phone to her ear, and went out on the porch.

We all sat in the kitchen, listening to Mom through the screen door as she told a half-truth about a strange man following her around.

Martina stood in the corner of the kitchen, biting her painted nails. Then she let out a sharp sigh and powered toward the mudroom. "Sorry," she said under her breath.

I caught her pulling a carton of cigarettes out of her pocket on the way out. The back door squeaked and banged, and a second later I caught a whiff of smoke.

As wound up as everybody else was, Dr. Jacobs sat loose, rocking back on the stool with her long legs kicked out. But she was staring straight ahead. Thinking. "There's something I just can't make heads or tails of," she said after a while.

"What?" I asked.

"Why in the world would anybody bring Neanderthal bones here?"

I glanced at Pine for clues. He gave me a shrug.

"All the fossils in the Hemming, they're local," Dr. Jacobs said. "But Neanderthal bones come from overseas. Heck, there's only one on display in the whole United States, and it's at the Smithsonian."

I stayed silent. I didn't know where she was going with this.

She raised her pointer finger. "One, do you have any idea how impossible it is to get fossils that valuable shipped overseas? And two—" she put up another finger. "—the Hemming is not the Smithsonian."

"What are you saying?"

She nodded to Pine. "I'm saying a lot of people had to work together to get you to Texas, young man." She switched her gaze back to me. "And I'm not convinced it's just for the research. I've been trying to get more information on who approved it and why, but the whole board of investors is freezing me out." She folded her arms and settled back with a tired chuckle. "I swear, it's a doggone conspiracy."

The front door opened, letting in a breath of cool, rainy air.

Mom came back inside and tucked her phone into her pocket. "They're having an officer drive by. Just for tonight."

"You want company?" Dr. Jacobs asked.

Mom shrugged. "If you don't mind the couch."

"What happens tomorrow?" I asked.

"The best thing we can do is get out of town," she said. "Pack a bag. I'm taking you to your dad's until we know our next move."

"It doesn't matter if I'm here or in Dallas," I said. "Crow can still use my magic." At least, I assumed he could. It wasn't like our connection would fizzle if I went out of range. I wasn't a walkie talkie.

"Maybe so. But it'll be a lot harder for him to kill you if you're two hours away."

"But this new soulshine he just summoned—he's gonna set it loose." Whatever fresh nightmare he'd brought back from the dead, it had to be bigger and meaner than the bull. "I'm the only one who can put it away for good. The only one who can put Crow away—"

"That's enough," she said.

The words were quiet, but her tone snapped my mouth shut.

"You've been calling the shots for too long," Mom said. "I'm in control now. And my job is to keep you safe."

I dropped my gaze to the floor. This was not a fight I was gonna win. And maybe skipping town to wait for this whole fiasco to blow over wasn't such a bad idea.

But there was one point I wasn't backing down on. "Pine's coming with us."

Mom analyzed him for a moment, scanning for danger with surgical care. Weighing his sins like one of those flaming-sword angels.

Pine, holding a #1 Grandpa mug up to his mouth with both hands, stopped mid-slurp to stare back at her with haunting blue eyes.

Finally, in that same, tight tone, she said, "Okay."