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without having to admit she had hoped to avoid him like a girl in grade school.
    His frown deepened, but Cordelia stepped forward, wearing a determinedly cheerful Texas welcome. “Would you like something to eat, Mr. Kane? Portia made more than enough food.”
    He glanced back into the kitchen, looking at the four used place settings. Then he turned to Portia. “You fed my daughter?”
    “I hope that’s okay,” she said, forcing a smile. “She was hungry. As Cordelia said, we had plenty. I can make you a plate, too.” Please say no, she prayed.
    He looked like he wanted to say something, though something that had nothing to do with food. But after what looked like a frustrated second, he shook his head. “No, but thank you. And thank you for feeding Ariel.” He started to leave, then turned back. “We need to discuss the apartment.”
    Portia smiled big. “Of course! We’ll discuss tomorrow.”
    Though she knew she would do everything in her power to avoid him like the plague. The last thing she wanted was to discuss anything with Gabriel Kane.

 
    Five
    A RIEL KANE WAS ALMOST entirely certain she was disappearing.
    Using every millimeter of her massively smart brain, she was trying to figure out if it was even possible for a person to disappear. So far she hadn’t come up with any sort of quantifiable answer despite the fact that she wrote everything she could down in her journal. Anything that seemed important, she took notes on. The only thing that was definite, however, was that she was definitely starving, even though barely an hour ago the ladies downstairs had shoveled heaping piles of really good food onto her plate. But not even the roast or cake made her feel less hungry.
    Hungry or not, Ariel had liked sitting there while they gabbed away. Portia, the one who seemed to live there, with her sandy blond hair and giant blue eyes, was pretty but tired looking, like a favorite doll who had been played with too much. Then there was Olivia, the middle sister, Ariel had learned, the same kind of pretty as Portia, those blue-blue eyes and long curly hair, only wilder, alive, like if you touched her you’d feel a zap. And last, Cordelia, the only one who seemed like an adult, again with the blue-blue eyes and really blond hair, only hers was straight, perfect, not one thing about her out of place. Ariel had seen tons of women like that, mothers of other girls, both in New Jersey and now here in New York.
    Whatever. There had been something nice about the way the sisters yakked away, like everything in the world was normal, a world where people didn’t disappear. Ariel liked that best. Then they started dancing, which was really embarrassing because they were so bad.
    At first she had felt bad seeing the three sisters dancing together, leaving her out. Then they had turned to her, pulling her into their circle. They didn’t even notice that her dancing was as bad as theirs. Even worse, maybe. Her throat swelled like a big baby’s just thinking about it. Only then her dad had shown up and ruined it.
    He was pretty good at that, given that he had pretty much ruined her life. If things were different, she’d be back in her old room in New Jersey instead of sitting on the fourth floor of this town house. Her dad just up and moved them here six months ago, never bothering to ask if she wanted a new room, or a new bed, or even a new life.
    The only good news was that she knew for a fact that her dad hadn’t sold their old house. It still had all their old furniture in it. With any luck, he’d give up this New York City nonsense and move them back where they belonged.
    She pulled out her journal and started to write, this time because she was supposed to. More specifically, the Shrink her dad had hired said she had to write out her feelings about her mom.
    Ariel hated this kind of journal writing. It made her think about Mom, which made her feel like a bee buzzing in a jar, banging around trying to get out. Sure,