Gretchen McNeil - 3:59

And more important, how did they get here in the first place?

Josie had no idea, but the key to getting home seemed to lie in figuring out the Mystery of the Missing Converse. She laughed lightly to herself. Best Nancy Drew title ever.

Okay, think. She leaned back against the bed. Regardless, these items had switched places with a counterpart on the other side, like Jo and Josie, only the objects were zapped at random. Josie hadn’t seen these items moving through the mirror when it was open, so how did they get there?

Josie caught her breath. Maybe there was another portal?

Josie leaped to her feet. That had to be it! Another portal. Another rift between the two worlds.

Josie picked up the box and headed back to Jo’s room. It didn’t matter how or why, only that another portal existed. She just had to find it. Or create another one. Whatever it took to get home.

“I will,” she said out loud as she gripped the handle to Jo’s bedroom door. She felt hopeful again. Buoyant. “I’ll get home if it kills me.”

But as she threw open the bedroom door, Josie’s stomach dropped. Her skin went cold, and her newfound sense of hope drained away.

Standing in the middle of the room, with a gun leveled at her, was Nick.

“We need to talk.”

3:45 P.M.

TWO HOURS AGO JOSIE HAD BEEN DESPERATE TO get time alone in the house. Now she would have sold her firstborn to have someone else around.

Nick’s face was very calm. His voice didn’t shake. His arm held the gun steady. There was something unnerving in the casual way he stared at her, as if holding her at gunpoint was a perfectly natural activity for a Tuesday afternoon.

“Who are you?” he asked.

A hundred thoughts raced through Josie’s mind. How did he know? And what should she tell him? Lie? Tell him the truth? Would the truth sound more like a lie than an actual lie? Better not risk it.

“What the hell are you doing?” Josie said, doing her best impression of Jo. “Is this some kind of joke?” She shuffled her feet toward the door in what she hoped was a casual manner.

“Don’t move,” Nick said. Still calm. Still devoid of emotion.

Josie wasn’t willing to give in. “Don’t tell me what to do.”

Nick shrugged. “I’m the one holding the gun.”

Josie forced a laugh, desperately hoping she sounded light and airy. “Please. I can tell that thing is plastic from here.”

Nick paused, then in answer he cocked the metal barrel. Definitely not a toy. “Right,” he said. “Plastic.”

Josie swallowed hard. Apparently there was a whole hell of a lot more going on than she could even imagine. She was running out of options.

Nick motioned toward the bed. “Sit.”

“What do you want, Nick?”

“Sit down.”

She could have made a break for it. But Nick was stronger and faster, not to mention the fact that he had a gun pointed at her chest. She probably wouldn’t have made it downstairs, let alone outside, without taking a bullet in the back. And then where would she have gone? The neighbors? Could she trust anyone? Nope. Besides, who would believe her? Josie was out of moves. She dropped the box on the floor and sat down gingerly on the edge of her mattress.

“Good.” Without taking his eyes off her, Nick dragged the desk chair over to the door and sat down, blocking the only exit. “Why don’t you start by answering my question: Who are you?”

Josie laughed again. She couldn’t help it. Nick sounded like he was doing an impression of a Nazi interrogator in every old movie she’d ever seen. “Really?”

“Cut the crap,” Nick said. His voice had an edge to it now. Patience was wearing thin. “Who are you?”

“Josephine Byrne,” she said with a cheeky grin. At least she wasn’t lying.

“Bullshit.”

“Look,” Josie said with a broad smile. “Don’t you recognize me?”

Nick shot to his feet. “I’ve known Jo since we were twelve, and I can say this with one hundred percent confidence: you are not Jo Byrne.”

How did he know?

“I know her.” Nick shifted his feet uneasily. “I know her personality, the way she talks and holds herself. The way she treats people. Ever since yesterday morning at school I’ve had this weird feeling that something just wasn’t right. You weren’t right. Zeke and Zeb told me what happened in physics. Then last night confirmed it. Either you’ve had major head trauma and don’t actually remember who you are, or you’re one of them.” He paused and pointed the gun directly at her again. “And it’s significantly more likely you’re one of them.”

“Who?”

“Do I look like an idiot?”

“Um . . .”

“I wouldn’t put it past them to have you made up to look like Jo. Were you afraid of us? Of what we might discover? Could your secret research really be threatened by a couple of high-school students? That’s pathetic. You hear me?”

Josie was starting to worry for his sanity. “Nick, what are you talking about?”

Nick ignored her question. He stormed up to her and grabbed her roughly by the shoulder. “Where are they? What happened to them?”

“I don’t know who you’re—”

Nick’s fingers dug into the fleshy part of her neck. “WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED TO MY BROTHER?”

Josie jerked away, trying to free herself. There was something in Nick’s eyes that scared her. Desperation. Fearlessness. Whatever it was, he clearly wouldn’t have thought twice about snapping her neck if push came to shove.

“Tony?” she said.

“Is that why you brought him up at school yesterday, huh? Were you trying to see how I’d react?”

Josie tried to wriggle free. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you don’t. Not about Dr. Byrne either.”

Josie stopped struggling. “What about Dr. Byrne?”

“Dr. Byrne? Dr. Byrne? ” Nick pushed her down on the bed and climbed on top of her. He squeezed her throat, constricting airflow. “Jo would never call her mom that.”

Josie pawed at Nick, desperately gasping for air. She didn’t even care about the gun anymore, only prying Nick’s hand off her throat. She kicked, trying to free herself, but he straddled her legs, rendering her almost completely helpless. She could feel her face burning, all the blood trapped as Nick methodically increased the pressure around her neck. Josie couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move. Her lungs burned, her eyes watered, and slowly, her vision began to go dark . . .

Just then, Nick released her. Josie’s head lolled to the side as she gulped in huge mouthfuls of air. Her body felt limp and tired.

“One more time,” Nick said. He’d regained his composure. She felt cold metal pressed against her cheek. The muzzle of the gun. “Who are you?”

Josie was screwed. She was Josephine Byrne—only not Nick’s Josephine Byrne. How could she explain it to him without getting her head blown off?

“I’m not going to ask again.”

“Okay!” Josie said, panting. “You win.”

The gun didn’t move. “Go ahead.”

“Just hear me out,” Josie said. Nick’s face was impassive, his eyes quick and alert, like a tiger hunting its prey. But the knuckles on the hand that gripped the gun were white and tense. He was scared too.

“Quickly.”

“My name is Josie Byrne.”

Nick pressed the gun into her cheek. “I said—”

“Listen to me!” Whether it was the tone in her voice or the look on her face, it made Nick pull back as a wave of hestitation passed over him.

“Josie Byrne,” she repeated. “Not Jo, Josie .”

“What are you talking about?”