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What was he talking about? None of them were even in his history class. Maria opened her mouth to ask him if he'd lost his mind, but then she heard footsteps coming toward them, and she caught a whiff of cologne. She knew that smell. She didn't have to turn around to know that Sheriff Valenti was behind her.

What was he doing here? Did he know the truth about Michael and the others? Maria felt a shiver race across her shoulders. She hoped Valenti didn't notice. She didn't want to do anything that might make him suspicious.

"I'm already halfway done with my paper," she told Alex. "You shouldn't be here right now if you haven't started. You should be at the library."

Valenti stepped up to the table. "I'm looking for Nikolas Branson," he announced. "His parents called me this morning and informed me that he never made it home last night."

Did he sound this calm when he talked to Nikolas's parents? Maria thought wildly. Did he just ask them all the usual questions and tell them he'd do everything he could-knowing the whole time that Nikolas was dead? Dead because of him!

"Nikolas didn't seem like the kind of guy who would be tucked in bed by midnight, you know what I mean?" Liz said, looking Valenti right in the eye. "He probably just partied a little too strenuously last night."

"Yeah, I bet he'll come rolling home sometime this afternoon," Alex agreed.

Valenti turned to Isabel. "Is that what you think?"

"Sounds like Nikolas to me," she said. Her voice gave the tiniest quiver when she said her boyfriend's name, but she answered without hesitation. She must have a little of her steel left after all, Maria decided.

"Is that all you can tell me? The two of you were together last night, weren't you?" Valenti asked. "My son, Kyle, said you and Nikolas were going out."

Thank you, Kyle, Maria thought. The little rat boy had to tell his father everything about everyone at school.

"We were together for a while, but we… we had a fight. I…" Isabel's breath began coming in ragged pants.

Maria shot Alex a panicked look. Isabel was going to lose it, right in front of the sheriff! What should we do? she thought frantically.

Michael grabbed a napkin from the dispenser and shoved it at Isabel. "Thanks for getting her started again," he snapped.

"We've been trying to cheer her up," Maria jumped in. "Nikolas was a complete jerk to her last night."

Isabel buried her face in her hands. Michael pulled her against his chest and glared up at Valenti.

"Well, if you hear from him-any of you-I expect you to call me immediately," Valenti told them. He turned and strode away.

Silence stretched out at the table. Maria didn't even hear anyone breathing. She knew she wasn't.

"Okay, he's gone," Max finally announced. Maria let out her breath in a whoosh.

Isabel sprang to her feet. "Give me the keys, Max. I'm going home."

"Izzy, come on, stay with us," Max said.

"No! I can't stay here." Isabel's voice rose higher and higher. Maria noticed her getting some curious looks from the people in the next booth.

"One of us could go with you," Liz volunteered.

"Or we all could," Maria added.

"I need to be alone," she snapped. "All of you just stay away from me." Max pulled out his keys, and Isabel snatched them out of his hand.

Maria watched as Isabel half ran out of the place. Doesn't she know that now is when she needs us the most? Maria thought.

***

Isabel chipped a little more wild cherry nail polish off her big toe. She added the tiny red flakes to the pile on her bedspread. She should never have let Michael coax her into going to Flying Pepperoni. She needed to be here, in her bedroom, where she could work on her little nail polish mountains. As long as she kept chipping and piling, she could blank out and turn the inside of her head into a buzzing gray screen.

But when she stopped, the screen got clear and a little movie began to play. A movie of Sheriff Valenti shooting Nikolas. Over and over and over.

The movie theater in her head was ultra-high-tech. It even came with odorama. Every time she heard the shot, she smelled the gunpowder, the odor of a row of firecrackers set off all at once. The sharp scent of her nail polish wasn't nearly strong enough to block it out.

Nikolas had always said humans were like insects. He'd said if Valenti got too close, he'd just squash him. And Isabel had believed him. She'd started thinking she had no reason to be afraid of the sheriff. That she had wasted years being terrified of a man whose powers were no match for Nikolas's or even her own.

But Nikolas was the one who had gotten squashed last night. Leaving behind an ugly spot on the floor, like any good bug. And now Isabel remembered why Valenti had filled her nightmares since she was a little girl. She remembered that she would always be hunted and that she would never be truly safe.

Isabel chipped another piece of polish off her toe and carefully added it to her little mountain.

She glanced at the clock. Max wouldn't be back from Flying Pepperoni for at least an hour. But as soon as he got home she knew her brother would be wanting to talk, wanting to tell her whatever they found out from Ray. As if she cared. As if she wanted to know anything more about her history, her stupid alien powers. If she were just a normal girl, none of this would have happened.

Isabel chipped the last speck of polish off her big toe. She carefully added the red flake to the very top of her mountain and studied her feet. Not one dot of color left. She grabbed her bottle of nail polish and started to paint them again. She worked fast, not worrying about being sloppy. She wanted to get her toes painted and dry so she could start chipping and piling again.

She heard footsteps coming up the stairs. Max must have followed her from Flying Pepperoni, worried about his baby sister. She wished he'd leave her alone. Him and Michael and everyone else.

A knock sounded on her bedroom door. "Go away, Max," Isabel said.

"It's not Max-it's Alex. Can I come in?"

Isabel sighed. She couldn't deal with Alex right now. If she stopped focusing on what she was doing, the movie in her head would start back up. She knew it. And she wouldn't be able to take it. She couldn't watch Nikolas die again.

"Your mom gave me some ginger ale and saltines to give to you," Alex called through the door. "She said your stomach was upset."

She really did not want to talk to him. Maybe if she didn't say anything, Alex would go away. She finished painting her last toe. She grabbed a magazine and fanned her feet. She wanted the polish chippable-now. Then she could get the movie to stop.

"It's too late to pretend you aren't in there," Alex announced. "You already said something."

"Did someone invite you over here?" Isabel snapped.

Alex was probably getting sad little puppy eyes on the other side of the door. But too bad. She hadn't invited him.

"Nope. I know I'm always welcome," Alex answered.

Isabel tested the polish on her toes. Still too wet to chip. "What? What do you want? Do you want me to tell you that you were right about Nikolas?" she demanded. "Okay, you were right. He was dangerous. He almost got us all killed. You know everything. Okay? So go."

She heard the doorknob turn, heard Alex mutter a curse when he discovered it was locked. "That's what you think?" he exploded. "You think I came over to get my jollies off making you tell me I was right all along?"

Good, Isabel thought. Get mad and get out. She waved her hands over her toenails. Almost done. Almost.