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IT!” she screamed, frightening herself with the sudden sound. Her throat stung in the aftermath. She swallowed. It hurt.
    Silence.
    She wanted to wake up, because then she would have known she’d been sleeping. Then this all could be unreal. She had to know . . . She felt for the soft lump on her neck.
    Still there.
    The confirmation brought no comfort.
    Consuela pulled one of her blankets off her bed and wrapped it tightly around her body, right there on the floor. She felt like a tiny anthill about to get stomped . . . waiting for the universe’s other shoe to fall.
    Consuela kept listening. Nothing.
    She surprised herself: she prayed.
    There was nothing else to do.

    He left after that. Now that he knew for sure.
    What was she doing here?
    He flicked the lighter crisply on and off, birthing and killing its single star in the dark.
    He’d have to keep an eye on her, ask the Watcher, wait and see.
    Obviously, he hadn’t saved her yet.

chapter four
    â€œIn every man there is the possibility of his being—or, to be more exact, his becoming once again—another man.”
    â€”OCTAVIO PAZ
    Â 
    Â 
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    HER phone rang.
    Adolescent instincts took over. She picked it up without thinking.
    â€œHello?”
    â€œIsn’t this convenient?” Sissy’s voice chirped. “You’re listed in the book!”
    Consuela fumbled for words, cohesive thought, something. The clock said 11:19, but it felt later. She fiddled with her cross, rubbing her fingertips over the stones.
    â€œHi, Sissy.”
    â€œI wanted to invite you over—have any other plans?”
    Consuela could hardly think through the just-got-up fog. “None that I know of,” she admitted.
    â€œThen grab your favorite skin or come as you are, we’re pretty informal around here.” Consuela could hear the casual humor in Sissy’s voice, but couldn’t dredge up the energy to match it. She was tired. Bone tired? She thought of skeletons and drainage pipes and bedroom doors and eyeball beads.
    â€œI’ll be there in a minute,” Consuela croaked. “Did you call me before?”
    â€œThis is the first time I’ve dialed your number.”
    â€œNo,” Consuela said. “I mean . . . out loud.” She scratched her fingernails over her scalp. She felt filthy. “I thought I heard someone calling my name.” The one you nicknamed me.
    â€œNo,” Sissy answered, “but that could’ve been anyone, really. Anybody drop by for a visit yet?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œDon’t worry. They will. You’re the new kid in town. Everyone wants to meet you!”
    â€œHuh?” Consuela still felt vaguely unsure of where she was, when she was, and what was going on.
    â€œSo are you coming?” Sissy pressed.
    â€œI’ll be there,” Consuela said, if only to get out of her room. She wasn’t up for entertaining visitors. She didn’t know how she’d introduce anyone like Sissy to Mom and Dad. Where are they, anyway? Had there really been a party last night while we waited to see if I had to go to the ER? That was so wrong.
    â€œDon’t dally, then.” Sissy’s voice rang clear as a bell, not like the soft hum of echoed strings. Like an electric angel. Consuela wondered where she’d heard it before, or if she’d ever hear it again.
    â€œLater, Bones,” Sissy said.
    Consuela hung up, still in a daze. Sissy’s wasn’t the voice that had spoken before. It was as if her last name had been said with steel-stringed violins. A chord that formed her new name as a word. It buzzed through her memory in low harmonics.
    She stood in the shower while hot water ran over her scalp. What does it mean? She soaped up her hair, scrubbing hard. She was glad she’d grabbed the phone before her parents had. How am I going to explain this to them? Mom? Dad? Allison? Consuela dunked her face under the jetting stream. I