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windowsill with his legs propped up was Ben Greenblott, looking lost in a book. I quickly looked away, then
took another peek. He totally hadn’t noticed me. I adjusted my earrings, fiddled with my watch, and shifted my weight from
one leg to the other. Then I took another tiny peek. This time Ben was looking at me.
    Oh my.
    Mrs. Redd appeared suddenly, a wide smile on her face. I quickly gave her my full attention. She was wearing a brightly colored
sweatshirt that proclaimed J’AIME MONTRÉAL! in pink letters. Something very bad seemed to have happened to her gray, usually straighthair. It looked as though she had
styled it with a table saw and a pitchfork.
    “Now, where is… ah, there you are,” Mrs. Redd said. I looked down the hall and saw Sid rapidly approaching, clipboard in one
hand and walkie-talkie in the other. The missing Satellite Girls were meekly walking in front of him, looking slightly abashed.
    “Okay, guys, so in case it wasn’t clear, which I’m guessing it wasn’t,” Sid said, shooting Shelby and Stacy a look, “the lobby
is off-limits without an adult, as is the gift shop, swimming pool,
bureau de change
, workout room, escalator, and any other location you can think of that is not your assigned room or this hallway. Got that,
guys?”
    “We got it, Sid,” called Phil. This apparently sounded good, because it was immediately followed by a chorus of “We got it,
Sid” from the masses.
    I peeked at Ben. Nothing. Mrs. Redd was looking very hard at Shelby and Stacy like she was trying to decide whether or not
to further pursue where Sid had found them. I didn’t think she needed to worry. For all his casual coolness, I had a feeling
nothing and no one was going to get past Sid on this trip. We probably didn’t even need the other chaperones.
    Which reminded me: Where was my mother? Where, for that matter, was Jac’s mother?
    “What happened to her hair?” Jac whispered, looking toward Mrs. Redd.
    I shrugged. It took every ounce of strength I had not to sneak another look in Ben’s direction.
    “It’s crowded. I think there’s more room over there,” Jac said, pointing in the directionof the windowsill where Ben Greenblott
was, in my opinion, magnificently perched.
    I smacked her hand down.
    “Don’t point! Are you nuts?” I hissed.
    “We should go over there.”
    I turned toward her and grabbed her two tiny shoulders.
    “Jac, please. Just leave it for now, okay? Please?”
    Jac gave me a long look. Mrs. Redd was making a speech about the pajama breakfast. She sounded like a large fly buzzing to
and fro in the background.
    “Please?” I whispered again.
    Jac sighed.
    “Well,” she said after a moment, “I guess there is something to be said for remaining at a distance. He can get the full picture
that way.”
    I was glad Jac had dropped it, though truth be told the “full picture” was the last thing I wanted Ben Greenblott, or anyone
else, to have of me.

Chapter 7
    We got under way relatively early the next morning and had arrived at our first destination. Mrs. Redd was calling to us loudly
to remember where we parked. Given that we had come on an enormous bus with a massive green leprechaun painted on the side,
I didn’t feel her concern was necessary. What did concern me was that the Beige Girl was still on the bus when we boarded
it that morning.
    She sat in the same seat she’d been in when I first saw her. She continued to stare outthe window, and this time I did not
attempt to engage her in conversation. When we all disembarked at the Mount-Royal Park guest area, Beige Girl made no move
to leave.
    Sid was directing us to follow him on the wide, paved path that led up Mont-Royal to the famous overlook at the Chalet du
Mont-Royal. He was walking backward up the hill, talking to us as he moved. I was enjoying that Sid seemed to start every
sentence with the same two words.
    “Okay, guys, so I’m sure you’ve all done your homework, and you know that this place was