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Alex into their family even though her daughter’s identical twin was a daily reminder that Cam had another mother somewhere.
    For some stupid reason, Cam began to well up with tears.
    If Alex noticed, she didn’t say anything. She did beat Cam to the computer, though, and booted it up.
    Cam had mail, so did Alex. Only not the mail they were hoping for.
    Deflated, Alex swung around to face her sister, confirming, “Still no message from
Starstuck
. They’re ignoring us.”
    “Rude much?” Cam snuffled back her tears, pretending it was the weather that had made her eyes water and her nose red.
    “That’s why they call ’em rag-mags,” Alex groused. “Maybe if we called back and said we were two-headed aliens who’d met Elvis in a galaxy far, far away … or that we’ve got a dog that can tell the future —”
    “I’ve got a better idea,” Cam said, her swollen eyes twinkling with sudden, mischievous inspiration. “Where’d we write down
Starstruck
’s phone number?”
    Alex was on it. “A little T’Witch trickery?”
    Cam ran her fingers through her long thick hair, pulling it off her face, securing it in a scrunchie-held ponytail. “
Starstuck
wouldn’t bother calling or writing back to Cam Barnes or Alex Fielding. So … who would they have to talk to?”
    Instantly, Alex got it. The only debate was which T’Witch would actually make the call. Alex was faster — using her telekinetic power to draw the phone to her.
    “Show-off.” Cam folded her arms. “Put it on speaker.”
    Bypassing the voice-mail-o-rama, Alex hit “O” and waited until the operator said, “How may I direct your call?”
    “I demand to speak to your photo editor immediately,” Alex snapped.
    “Who shall I say is calling?” the operator asked, bored.
    “Tell him Alexandra DuBaer is on the phone, calling on behalf of Lord Thantos DuBaer.”
    The next voice they heard was gruff, irritable, but clearly trying to control its edginess. “Edwards. Photo Department. Who did you say this is?”
    “Alexandra DuBaer, Lord Thantos’s niece.” Alex wavered only a tiny bit. “Are you the photo editor?”
    “No, I’m Madonna,” the man grumbled. “What can I do for you?”
    “Lord Thantos”— Alex cleared her throat —“demands to know the name of the photographer who took his picture and to speak directly with him. Or her,” she quickly added.
    “Yeah, sure.” Edwards gave a nasty snicker. “Look, whoever you are, I don’t know what your game is, but no can do — even if I wanted to. Your photographer’s not in —”
    “When will he be back?” Alex was determined not to be brushed off.
    “Never,” Edwards cracked. “Does never work for you?”
    Cam leaned into the speaker phone. “I don’t think you want to incur Lord Thantos’s wrath …”
    Alex nudged her out of the way. “We need to talk tothe photographer. Our uncle … he … uh … wants to —” Alex shrugged at Cam.
    “Buy the picture!” Cam blurted.
    The photo editor laughed. “Yeah, right. To frame it?”
    “I don’t see the humor in this, Mr. Edwards,” Alex said bossily. “He wants to make sure it never gets published again. My uncle is a very private man.”
    “And rich,” Cam added. “Money is not an object.”
    “Look, whoever you are,” he said pointedly, “if you were really related to that egomaniacal money machine, you would know this. I can’t sell you the picture.”
    “Can’t? Or won’t?” Cam asked dramatically. “Lord Thantos won’t be happy —”
    “He won’t, won’t he? Trust me on this, he’s already made his displeasure known,” Edwards said bitterly, and hung up.
    Alex heard footsteps crunching in the snow outside.
    “Dylan,” Cam confirmed, without looking out the window. “Bum-osity. He’s going to do twenty questions on the rumor that I got sick in class.” As her brother slammed the front door and started up the stairs, she grabbed a book from her backpack, planted herself on the window