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was.
    â€œI’m not a lady,” corrected Lottie. “I’m just Lottie.”
    â€œYou
are
wet,” said Mrs. Yates, who had apparently not believed Lottie until now. “Careful, child! Don’t drip on the Oriental.”
    Lottie edged away from the ugly, puce-colored rug so that she could more conveniently drip on the bare floor.
    â€œNow, Charlotte, what happened?” Mrs. Yates said. “I was just explaining to Mr. Grissom that I have a strictly enforced curfew for all guests, no exceptions.” She turned to Mr. Grissom. “This
usually
doesn’t happen.”
    â€œI got attacked by a tree,” Lottie explained in what she thought was a very calm, adult manner. “It crushed my bike, but I escaped. Someone pulled me out of the way just in time.”
    Mr. Grissom made a gurgling sound, and Lottie wondered if he was choking. Finally he said, “That’s quite an imagination the young lady has.”
    â€œExcuse us, Mr. Grissom,” said Mrs. Yates, grabbing Lottie’s arm and dragging her out of the parlor.
    â€œYou’re lying,” hissed Mrs. Yates just as soon as they were out of earshot of the man. “Here I am, trying to make a good impression, and you waltz in, a flagrant liar and a curfew breaker! Now tell me what really happened.”
    â€œI just
did
tell you,” said Lottie, trying to pull free from Mrs. Yates’ pincer grasp. “A tree attacked!”
    â€œThat’s as silly as your notions about goblins and magical boxes,” Mrs. Yates said. “Don’t think that ridiculous story is going to save you from punishment. I’ve a guest to entertain, and you may not look up to an explanation now, but believe me, I’ll expect one in the morning. In the meantime, you’re absolutely forbidden from setting one foot outside this house without my express permission.”
    With that, Mrs. Yates sent Lottie straight upstairs without dinner. The lack of food was all the same to Lottie, who was exhausted and had no appetite after puking up five fish sticks’ worth of lunch in Skelderidge Park. But to be grounded the whole weekend through? She
had
to see Eliot. She had to apologize. If there were only two, maybe three weeks left, every day counted.
    She would just have to go back tonight.
    Mrs. Yates would be busy with Mr. Grissom downstairs. All Lottie had to do was sneak out the kitchen door.It would be a long run back to the Barmy Badger, but she knew all the best shortcuts. It was a risk, and it might mean a punishment of a whole
year
full of grounded weekends. But tomorrow Mrs. Yates might lock Lottie’s door, as she’d done many times before. Tonight, Lottie still had a chance.
    Lottie barreled into her bedroom. She grabbed an umbrella from under her bed. Then she tossed off her periwinkle coat and threw open her closet to find a dry shirt and shorts good for running.
    What she found instead was a girl.

CHAPTER THREE
Down and Up

    THE GIRL BLINKED ONCE . “You have the strangest taste in clothing,” she said.
    Lottie stumbled backward. In the dimness, she could only just make out the outline of the girl emerging from the closet. She was approaching Lottie softly (impossibly softly!) with arms raised as though to show she was harmless. Lottie fumbled with the switch of a nearby lamp. In a
snap,
soft light filled the room. When Lottie’s eyes adjusted, they met a pair of blazing blue ones.
    â€œHow did you get in here?”
    â€œThe window,” chirped the girl.
    Lottie looked at the window that Mrs. Yates had slammed shut that morning.
    â€œThe window’s closed.”
    â€œNot anymore, it isn’t,” said the girl, who walked to the window and flung it open. She turned around, leaning against the ledge and letting out a noisy yawn. “Shall we go?”
    â€œGet
out
, would you?” Lottie said, her face growing hot. “What do you mean by barging in here?” She