Misplaced (67 page)

“Can you see Khara’s aura? What does it tell you?”

“He
r
aur
a
i
s
al
w
ay
s
changing
,
s
o
he
r
pat
h
mus
t
b
e
v
ery
uncer
t
ain
,
cramme
d
wi
t
h
achie
v
emen
t
s
an
d
ca
t
as
t
ro
p
hes
.
Color
s
an
d
peopl
e
swir
l
aroun
d
he
r
a
s
thoug
h
sh
e
w
er
e
th
e
sun.
I’
v
e ne
v
er seen anything like it.”

The
voice
inside
V
ictoria’s
head
that
usually
spoke
quietly
i
n
th
e
middl
e
o
f
th
e
nigh
t
returned
.
Wha
t
make
s
yo
u
thin
k
yo
u
can
get Khara back where she belongs?

V
ictoria set her jaw.

“
Y
ou
,
o
n
th
e
othe
r
hand
,
ar
e
a
n
ope
n
book,
”
Celeste
announced.

As
much
as
V
ictoria
didn’t
belie
v
e
in
such
things,
her
heart
missed a beat.

“If
I
w
as
the
kind
of
person
gi
v
en
o
v
er
to
telling
the
end
of
a
movie
or
letting
on
what
a
person’s
Christmas
present
w
as,
I
’
d
tell
you.
But,”
Celeste
whispered,
“I
don’t
w
ant
to
ruin
it
for
you.”

“Then
I
’
ll
assume
it’s
a
happy
ending,”
V
ictoria
replied
and
ga
v
e
Celest
e
a
loo
k
sh
e
reser
v
e
d
fo
r
lyin
g
witnesses
.
Sh
e
helped
Celest
e
t
o
he
r
fee
t
and
,
slo
w
ly
,
the
y
mad
e
thei
r
w
a
y
t
o
th
e
mai
n
house.

A
t
th
e
door
,
Celest
e
e
y
e
d
wha
t
w
a
s
lef
t
o
f
V
ictoria’
s
goo
d
suit
with
more
than
a
little disdain.
“Lila,
my
caretake
r
’s
wife,
i
s
bringin
g
somethin
g
fo
r
yo
u
t
o
w
ear
.
Y
o
u
can’
t
g
o
aroun
d
here
lik
e
that,
”
sh
e
commanded
,
nos
e
wrinkled
.
“
I
ne
v
e
r
coul
d
brin
g
mysel
f
t
o
ge
t
ri
d
o
f
th
e
clothe
s
Be
a
lef
t
here
.
Sh
e
an
d
Khar
a
are
practically
the
same
size.
Now
come,
child,
it’s
time
to
start
dinner.”

V
ictori
a
grimaced
.
“I’
m
afrai
d
I’
m
no
t
muc
h
goo
d
i
n
the
kitchen.”

“The
n
it’
s
abou
t
tim
e
yo
u
learned
.
Khar
a
too
.
S
o
many
things to prepare her for. What a gift you’
v
e been gi
v
en!”

“I don’t follow you.”

“Y
ou,
my
dear,
are
the
conductor
of
her
train
ride
through
the
modern
world.
W
ith
influence
like
yours,
just
imagine
the
kno
w
ledg
e
sh
e
coul
d
tak
e
back
!
I
t
doesn’
t
tak
e
a
see
r
t
o
spo
t
how
badly
she
w
ants
to
learn.
T
each
her;
teach
her
e
v
erything
you can.”

V
ictori
a
shoo
k
he
r
head
.
“
I
thin
k
w
e
shoul
d
lea
v
e
Khar
a
jus
t
a
s
sh
e
is
.
I
worr
y
tha
t
he
r
view
s
ha
v
e
alread
y
bee
n
distorted
.
Changin
g
th
e
past—o
r
th
e
future
,
ho
w
e
v
e
r
yo
u
w
an
t
t
o
explain
it—i
s
no
t
m
y
job
.
I
don’
t
belie
v
e
sh
e
w
a
s
e
v
e
r
mean
t
t
o
b
e
here.”

“That’s because you lack—”

“Faith. I know.
Y
ou
w
ere going to say I lack faith.”

“That’
s
no
t
true
.
Y
ou
,
m
y
girl
,
ha
v
e
mor
e
fait
h
tha
n
most
people
e
v
er
dream
of.
I
w
as
going
to
say
that
you
lack
v
er
v
e.
Where’s
your
vigor
outside
the
courtroom?
Doors
don’t
open
e
v
ery
day,
e
v
en
when
you
’
re
young
and
beautiful.”
They
w
ent
inside
,
where
,
withou
t
anothe
r
wor
d
Celest
e
pu
t
he
r
t
o
work
chopping onions.

Usin
g
he
r
can
e
for
balance
,
sh
e
bega
n
movin
g
abou
t
th
e
room
,
fishin
g
ou
t
pot
s and
pans
and
tossing
v
egetables
single-handed
from
one
of
the refrigerators onto the countertop, humming all the while.