better.
I put my socks and shoes back on. I head across the beach and jog down the road.
Itâs pouring now. The slanted raindrops prick like needles, and all the tourists have disappeared. I slow down beside the Top Notch Café and glimpse through the window at tables crowded with people. My stomach rumbles. It looks so warm and inviting. Iâd love an orange float, but I donât want to go in there by myself.
I keep jogging, my head ducked against the rain. I stop outside the store with the sign that says Inkmanâs . I peer through the window. It looks like the kind of store that would sell candy. I have a sudden craving for a stick of black licorice. Or a giant jawbreaker. After all, I have a whole dollar!
I push the door open and a bell jingles.
I take three steps in and then slam to a stop.
Thereâs a counter right across from the door. A girl is standing there with her back to me. She has brown curly hair, her legs are skinny sticks like mine, and we are the same height. Exactly.
The storekeeper is wrapping something in brown paper for her. âTell your aunt I hope she feels better soon,â he says.
I clamp my lips together to stop myself from yelping out loud. My legs turn to jelly.
Iâve found Grace.
Chapter Eighteen
I canât keep standing in the doorway like a ninny. I have to go in or go out.
I take a deep breath and step inside. I scuttle over to a shelf stacked with boxes of cereal and pretend to be looking at them. I feel like a spy in a secret agent movie. My heart is pounding so loudly that itâs a miracle the girl and the storekeeper canât hear it.
âIâll have three jawbreakers,â the girl says.
Ohmigosh. Sheâs thinking about jawbreakers too. This is exactly what I mean about the bond between twins.
My legs wobble. The storekeeper glances at me and I give him a confident smile and pick up a box of Shredded Wheat.
Cripes. What do I do now?
A plan. I need a plan. Iâve spent a lot of time imagining finding Grace, but Iâve never imagined what to do next.
Then the girl says, âSee you later.â She turns around.
Her face is covered with freckles.
And when she walks past me, I can see that we arenât the same height at all. Sheâs shorter than me. She looks about eight years old.
The bell jingles and sheâs gone.
The storekeeper is staring hard at me now. He has bushy gray eyebrows that meet in the middle. âFifteen cents,â he says.
I blink and try to focus. âWhat?â
âCereal. Fifteen cents.â
He probably thinks I donât have any money. He probably thinks Iâm one of those kids that hang around in stores and swipe stuff.
To prove him wrong, I pay for the cereal. Then I march out of the store.
I despise Shredded Wheat.
⢠⢠⢠⢠â¢
By the time I get back to the hotel, the box of cereal is so soggy itâs starting to fall apart. I dump it in a garbage bin outside the hotel. What a waste of fifteen cents!
The man in the gray uniform is still there, standing under the awning. He looks at me, but he doesnât make any move to open the door. So much for feeling like a queen. I guess a half-drowned kid doesnât rate.
I drip my way across the lobby. Iâm not in the mood to read any more. It must be the shock of almost finding Grace. I feel as limp as a wrung-out dishrag. When I get to our room, I donât turn on the light because Iâm afraid of waking Mom. I sit on the edge of the bed and eat a smushed cheese sandwich in the dark.
Then I put on my pajamas and crawl under the blankets. I stick my cold feet over to Momâs side of the bed. In two seconds, I am fast asleep.
Chapter Nineteen
âWhere are you going?â I whisper.
Mom has opened the curtains a crack and the room is filled with pale gray light. Sheâs dressed and sheâs fumbling in her purse.
âOut,â Mom says. âFor a walk.â
I
I put my socks and shoes back on. I head across the beach and jog down the road.
Itâs pouring now. The slanted raindrops prick like needles, and all the tourists have disappeared. I slow down beside the Top Notch Café and glimpse through the window at tables crowded with people. My stomach rumbles. It looks so warm and inviting. Iâd love an orange float, but I donât want to go in there by myself.
I keep jogging, my head ducked against the rain. I stop outside the store with the sign that says Inkmanâs . I peer through the window. It looks like the kind of store that would sell candy. I have a sudden craving for a stick of black licorice. Or a giant jawbreaker. After all, I have a whole dollar!
I push the door open and a bell jingles.
I take three steps in and then slam to a stop.
Thereâs a counter right across from the door. A girl is standing there with her back to me. She has brown curly hair, her legs are skinny sticks like mine, and we are the same height. Exactly.
The storekeeper is wrapping something in brown paper for her. âTell your aunt I hope she feels better soon,â he says.
I clamp my lips together to stop myself from yelping out loud. My legs turn to jelly.
Iâve found Grace.
Chapter Eighteen
I canât keep standing in the doorway like a ninny. I have to go in or go out.
I take a deep breath and step inside. I scuttle over to a shelf stacked with boxes of cereal and pretend to be looking at them. I feel like a spy in a secret agent movie. My heart is pounding so loudly that itâs a miracle the girl and the storekeeper canât hear it.
âIâll have three jawbreakers,â the girl says.
Ohmigosh. Sheâs thinking about jawbreakers too. This is exactly what I mean about the bond between twins.
My legs wobble. The storekeeper glances at me and I give him a confident smile and pick up a box of Shredded Wheat.
Cripes. What do I do now?
A plan. I need a plan. Iâve spent a lot of time imagining finding Grace, but Iâve never imagined what to do next.
Then the girl says, âSee you later.â She turns around.
Her face is covered with freckles.
And when she walks past me, I can see that we arenât the same height at all. Sheâs shorter than me. She looks about eight years old.
The bell jingles and sheâs gone.
The storekeeper is staring hard at me now. He has bushy gray eyebrows that meet in the middle. âFifteen cents,â he says.
I blink and try to focus. âWhat?â
âCereal. Fifteen cents.â
He probably thinks I donât have any money. He probably thinks Iâm one of those kids that hang around in stores and swipe stuff.
To prove him wrong, I pay for the cereal. Then I march out of the store.
I despise Shredded Wheat.
⢠⢠⢠⢠â¢
By the time I get back to the hotel, the box of cereal is so soggy itâs starting to fall apart. I dump it in a garbage bin outside the hotel. What a waste of fifteen cents!
The man in the gray uniform is still there, standing under the awning. He looks at me, but he doesnât make any move to open the door. So much for feeling like a queen. I guess a half-drowned kid doesnât rate.
I drip my way across the lobby. Iâm not in the mood to read any more. It must be the shock of almost finding Grace. I feel as limp as a wrung-out dishrag. When I get to our room, I donât turn on the light because Iâm afraid of waking Mom. I sit on the edge of the bed and eat a smushed cheese sandwich in the dark.
Then I put on my pajamas and crawl under the blankets. I stick my cold feet over to Momâs side of the bed. In two seconds, I am fast asleep.
Chapter Nineteen
âWhere are you going?â I whisper.
Mom has opened the curtains a crack and the room is filled with pale gray light. Sheâs dressed and sheâs fumbling in her purse.
âOut,â Mom says. âFor a walk.â
I
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