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the hall, and glanced back over an immaculate black shoulder. “Don’t forget to pack the cat food.”
    “And thus we have the subtitle for my life,” Claire sighed, getting to her feet.
    “When you left to answer this Summons, did you tell Mom and Dad where you were heading?”
    “They weren’t home. I left them a note.”
    “You should call before you go to bed.”
    “Yeah. Right.” Picking up her sandwich plate, Diana headed for the kitchen only to be stopped by Dean’s outstretched hand.
    “I’ve got it.”
    “I was just going to put it in the dishwasher. Claire said business was good enough that you guys bought a dishwasher.”
    “We did.”
    “So?”
    The blue eyes behind the glasses met hers without apology. “I like to load it.”
    “He has a system,” Claire put in.
    “Whatever.” Diana handed over the plate and watched Dean walk into the kitchen. “He’s just a little obsessive,” she murmured as Claire moved up beside her.
    “A little . . .”
    The faded jeans stretched tight as he bent over to set the plate in the lower rack.
    “. . . but there are compensations.”
    “Oh, yeah. I can tell you’re with him for his mind.” Grabbing her backpack, she headed for the hall. “So, in the interest of being rested and prepared, I’m going to grab the key to room one and crash. Come on, Sam.” Eyes still on Dean, Claire waved absently toward her sister. “Call home.”
    “Bite me.”
    Accelerating to make the end of the advance green, Dean cranked his truck hard to the left and roared up into the mall’s parking lot. Just after nine a.m. the temperature had already climbed past thirty degrees C; unusually hot for the end of June. Three adults and two cats didn’t leave a lot of room for air flow in the cab and exposed skin would have been covered in a glistening layer of sweat had not the fine patina of cat hair caught-and dimmed-the glisten.
    “That’s the entrance by the food court,‘ Diana declared, pointing out the open window. ”Turn here.“
    Dean turned.
    “If it’s the closest entrance to the Emporium, it’ll be the most watched and therefore the most likely to be guarded,” Claire argued, holding her skirt up off the damp skin of her legs with two fingers. “Turn back onto the roadway and head for the door Diana used last night. We know we can get through that one.” Dean turned.
    “We don’t know that we can’t get through the closer one.”
    “We don’t want to risk setting off an alarm.”
    “And the longer we spend wandering around the mall, the greater the chance we’ll be discovered. Dean, turn here.”
    Dean turned.
    “Charging in on a direct line to the Emporium is a lot more likely to get us noticed. Dean, turn here.”
    Dean stopped the truck.
    Both sisters shot him essentially identical looks of disbelief as they rocked forward against their seat belts.
    “You either walk from here,” he told them calmly, “or you agree on an entrance.”
    The cab filled with overlapping protests and no agreement.
    Irresistible brown eyes met immovable brown eyes.

    “Okay, that’s it.” Austin flowed up over the back of the seat. “Since two of us are out here sweltering in fur coats . . .”
    “I’m okay,” Sam interrupted.
    “Shut up, kid. . . . sweltering in fur coats,” he repeated, “and there’s air-conditioning behind whatever door we decide to go through, I’m making an executive decision.” He jumped down onto Claire’s lap and put his front paws up onto the dash.
    “What’s wrong with those doors? They’re closest.” Claire shook her head. “They lead to one of this reality’s anchor stores. The way things are skewed, we might not be able to get out.”
    “Fine. What about the next doors?”
    “Same store.”
    “And the doors after that?”
    “That,” Diana told him, arms crossed and sitting as slumped as her seat belt and the crowded conditions allowed, “is where I went in last night.”
    “Then that’s where we’re going