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I’ve certainly never stolen anything. Especially not my grandma’s car.”
    “Like I said, we didn’t steal her car. We borrowed it.”
    “Yeah, Dante. Hanging out with you has been, like, so fun.” She puts her hands on her hips, a sign that I shouldn’t push my luck. “But I need to go home now.”
    “All right, let’s get you home. Keys.” Charlie tosses me the keys, and I somehow catch her disastrous throw.
    I let her walk in front of me while I think about what I’m about to do. I’m not sure why I’m hesitating. There’s no time to hesitate. Ten days. That’s all I have. And there’s no gray line for theft.
    I stare at Charlie until a shining light engulfs her small frame. It’s so bright, so devastatingly bright. I point my finger and release a seal. It attaches to her soul and stays there.
    And damn it if she doesn’t turn around at this very moment…and smile.

Chapter Six
    Watchful Eyes
    I pull up in front of Charlie’s house and kill the engine of her grandma’s ’90s Lincoln. Right now, I’d like to find a hotel and call it a day. But this job isn’t your typical nine to five. So I turn to Charlie, who’s busy destroying her nails, and say, “Want me to come inside for a while?”
    She takes her fingers out of her mouth. “My grandma still isn’t home, or she’d be outside with a butcher knife already.”
    Good. “That’s too bad. Where is she?”
    “Her friend Ilene usually picks her up on Friday afternoons so they can gossip,” she says. “That’s why she wasn’t here when we came by earlier.”
    “Does your grandma work?” I ask.
    “No. She used to be a cosmetologist. She even did makeup for movie stars when she was younger, but she doesn’t work anymore.”
    I inspect the big white house in front of us with its black shutters and red door. It’s nowhere near the size of my parents’ crib, but it still must have cost some cash. I’m guessing money’s tighter now that Grams is retired.
    “Want to see what my grandma has stashed in the fridge?” she asks.
    “Definitely.”
    We climb out the car, but instead of heading inside, Charlie walks across the street to the densely treed area facing her house.
    “What are you doing?” I ask.
    She pulls napkins out of her backpack and unwraps the leftovers she stashed from lunch. “These raccoons used to get into our trash, but my grandma bought these heavy-duty lids to keep them out. It worked, but I feel kinda bad for them, you know?” Charlie tosses the food toward the trees and heads toward the house. “If my grandma found out I was feeding them, she’d freak.”
    “Your secret is my secret.” Even if you are a hippie nut job.
    Charlie unlocks the front door and goes in, but I stop in the doorway. I turn around. Then I turn around again.
    I feel something. No, I sense something. And it sure as hell isn’t raccoons.
    Across the street, it’s so thick with brush, I can’t tell if something’s there. I take a few steps forward and listen. I don’t hear anything, but I know it’s him.
    A collector.
    The sensation never lets me know how many collectors are near, but reason tells me there’s only one. Feeling like an idiot, I say, “Max?” But there’s no response. There are only six of us, yet this guy’s sportin’ shadow. Why won’t this dude reveal himself? I know the only thing that can kill a collector is to remove his cuff, but right about now I’d like to give other alternatives a shot. I run through the collectors in my head. In addition to me and Max, there’re Patrick, Anthony, Kincaid, and Zack. And I can’t imagine why any of them would follow me. In fact, I’d think they’d be afraid to. Not only do I have Boss Man’s ear, but I’m the one who performs their continued training. And there’s no secret why that is: I’m the best.
    I walk back toward the house, glancing over my shoulder the entire way. When I get to the door, Charlie is there. “It’s nothing,” I say before she asks.