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bolted straight at Jeff.

Never had anyone seen him move so fast. If Zormna was a cheetah, Jeff was a fleeing rabbit on speed. Everyone around where he had been wobbled on their feet, staring at the empty space he had just occupied.

“Zormna, put your flippers back on! You can’t leave yet!” Michelle Clay shouted at her.

Zormna halted at the tree.

 Jeff panted far off at the brick entrance to the school’s administrative hall, watching her.

Michelle stomped towards her, huffing indignantly. “Don’t make me say it twice!”

Glaring through the wall of people, Zormna bared her teeth at Jeff then stalked back to her team where she resumed her spot in the line.

 The cheer started over once more.

And that was only Tuesday.

Cheer initiation lasted all week. So did the humiliation. But—and Jennifer noted this in the back of her head—nothing suspicious happened with the FBI, her parents, Darren Asher, or with the Streigle boys. Things had fallen back into a state of normality. And even Zormna had begun to blend in.

In fact, on Friday, Zormna approached Jennifer to help her find a Prom dress.

“Something with sleeves,” Zormna said.

Jennifer nodded, agreeing this time. She didn’t want to see her parents go nuts again over seeing that brand mark.

They went to the mall first.

But that turned out to be a big mistake. Like with the swimsuits, most of the dresses that year were either spaghetti strap, strapless, or off the shoulder…and the majority were sold out anyway.

“What about your aunt’s place?” Jennifer suggested after they had looked through the billionth rack in the mall with dismay. The storekeeper was glowering at them since they had made a mess of what was left.

Zormna shrugged. “There are clothes in the closets. But wasn’t my great aunt rather large? I don’t think her clothes would fit me.”

Snorting, Jennifer nodded. The woman had been like a blimp. Her double chin had double chins.

“Yeah. One dress might fit five of you. But I can sew.” Jennifer headed the store exit, the storekeeper glaring after them. “I can alter any one of them to fit you.”

Staring at her, Zormna’s eyes widened. Her mouth opened. She followed quickly after her. “You can? Why didn’t you tell me this earlier?”

Jennifer shrugged dismissively while they passed the second level balcony to the escalators. “I dunno. You were acting so normal. I wanted to enjoy it.”

The blonde broke down into what first sounded like tears. Zormna stepped onto the escalator, leaning entirely on the railing. But when she lifted her head Jennifer saw that Zormna was laughing.

“How ironic,” Zormna murmured, ignoring the staring faces of those going up while they went down—including the FBI agent that had been following them. “I’m actually glad you did.”

But they went directly to her great aunt’s house after that. Jennifer drove her mother’s car.

It had been a while since Zormna had been alone in that place. So when she stepped inside, she did with hesitation. As Jennifer rushed up the stairs to the old woman’s bedroom, Zormna walked through the house pawing under ledges and along edges of the walls and tables. Knowing Zormna, she was probably unearthing bugs left by the FBI. She did it occasionally around Jennifer’s home whenever anyone had left it entirely empty for any duration. It made Jennifer’s parents nervous, but they actually appreciated Zormna’s thoroughness.

Within the old lady’s room, Jennifer hurried past the large fluffy bed and frills to the closet. She could hear some loud bangs going on downstairs, bugs probably getting killed left and right. Jennifer opened the closet. It was crammed full of dresses.

“Bingo!” Jennifer laughed at the wall of fluffy fabric. They had plenty to work with. “Zormna, get up here! You need to look at these!”

She heard Zormna’s feet jog up the stairs. When the blonde came into the room, Zormna had several of those tiny disks cupped in her hands. She seemed to be looking for something to smash the little electronics with.

“How about this?” Jennifer held up the first pink frilly thing she had extracted from the stuffed-full closet. She had already dislodged about seven dresses of varying colors and frilliness from the stuffed closet space.

Zormna shrugged. She dumped handfuls of on the vanity. “I don’t care. You said you could alter anything. Alter it, and that will be that.”

“Any one of these will need a lot of alteration,” Jennifer murmured. “They are all tent, and you are tiny.” Letting the dress go, Jennifer laughed. She held up the next enormous gown, examining it. But as she peered over the length of the dress, she thought more about the task at hand. “But Mom said you shouldn’t humiliate Todd, and I am not sure this is your style.”

“No dress is my style,” Zormna muttered, picking up a book. She groped around the lamp and the desk for more bugs. There was only one. She smashed them with the book then sat down onto the queen-sized bed. A small puff of dust rose. It had been months since they had been in that room, but both girls could see where the agents had clearly snooped. There were smudges in the dust.

Setting the dress down while trying to keep from laughing, Jennifer plucked up another one—this one green. She closed one eye, holding it up at Zormna. “This one would make you look so Irish. But I think people would just tease Todd for going out with a leprechaun.”

“A what?” Zormna looked up.

Jennifer chuckled, shaking her head. “Doesn’t matter.”

She crawled back into the closet for more dresses. Jennifer tossed aside all the flowery dressed and all the dresses with lace. Oddly, Zormna peered at the ones printed with flowers. But soon Zormna also rose off the bed to help. Both of them climbed inside the four-foot space. It was crammed packed, and with more than just dresses. They extracted a plethora of shoes, handbags, and scarves along with dress upon dress upon dress. And hats. The top shelves were stacked with hat boxes.

“You didn’t even touch this when we cleaned, did you?” Jennifer asked after they finally pushed out a heavy steamer trunk they had unearthed from all the hanging clothes and shoe boxes.

Zormna shook her head. “Not at all. I saw the wall of fabric and just closed the door again.”

She then groped along the edges of the doorway and into the shelves, feeling for more bugs. Zormna found none. Apparently the FBI had been overwhelmed by the stuffed closet the same as Zormna had been.

Looking at all the dresses, Jennifer chuckled. “We really ought to have that garage sale.”

Zormna nodded, gazing at the sea of fabric and lace.

“We’ll clean these out and hold it one Saturday.” Jennifer chuckled.

Jennifer started to sort out all the dresses in the closet by color while Zormna pulled the trunk to the center of the room and examined the leather on it, most especially inspecting the marks scratched into the top.

“I don’t think your aunt would have dresses in that,” Jennifer said with hardly a glance at the trunk.

But Zormna hands stroked over the leather, biting her lower lip. She gently shook her head. “No. But it is for me.”

Jennifer dropped the dress she was holding. “What?”

Nodding, Zormna, pointed to the scratches. “She…she wrote our names on it.”

Leaning nearer, Jennifer peered at the marks in the wood and leather, but they didn’t look like writing to her. She closed one eye. “Are you sure?”

Nodding, Zormna felt over the clasp.

There were two brass latches and one lock. Zormna undid the latches then fingered the lock. Old fashioned, almost steam-punk in style, the lock had etching in the circular disk. A regular key hole rested in the center.

“Did your great aunt leave a key?”

Zormna pulled out the key ring for the house with a shrug, and tested each at the lock. None fit.

Frowning, Zormna then searched around the room for something to use to pry the trunk open. Yet halfway up, she halted and stared at the design surrounding the keyhole, feeling it with her fingertips like she would braille. 

That’s when Jennifer saw it. That shape. Round. A circle within a circle within a circle. The same symbol on Zormna’s shoulder. The keyhole filled the smallest circle, obscuring the shape.

Zormna went pale. Peeking once at Jennifer, she finally shook her head and said, “Don’t tell your parents I have this.”

Immediately Zormna reached inside her shirt and extracted a necklace Jennifer had not seen before. Hanging on it was an ancient disk of metal the same shape and size as the lock. Tiny clips unsnapped as Zormna loosened the chain off the straps of her bra. Holding her breath, Jennifer watched Zormna set the medallion against the lock on the chest, making sure it lined up perfectly. Then Zormna pushed.  

The chest popped open from inside.

Zormna lifted the lid up. Not by the back hinge, but up and off. She set the lid heavily on the bed. Jennifer peered in the trunk.

Turned out, the keyhole had led to nowhere. It was a fake. And the contents of the chest? Nothing but more clothes.

So disappointed, Jennifer sat back. No amazing alien revelations, no interesting gizmos, not even something shiny that she would expect to come from another planet.

Zormna, however, reached into the trunk and lifted out the folded clothes, one thing at a time. She held up a pair of pants, gazing at it.

“It’s my size.”

Jennifer looked back as she picked up a barn-red dress with chickens on it, blinking at Zormna. “What was that?”

Zormna took out another clothing item. It was a shirt. Nothing fancy. Just ordinary, in fact. A blue shirt with a cartoon character on it. She dug out pants. The style was different from what was in the stores, but as Zormna lifted each item up, Jennifer was sure they would fit the girl fine.

Then Zormna removed a larger shirt, man-style. There were matching pants and ties along with more casual clothes. Under that she found clothing that would have fit a child of four. Zormna lifted out a little pink dress with matching shoes, all of it still perfectly new.

Zormna’s fingers trembled.

“What is it?” Jennifer asked.

Zormna just shook her head.

Heaving out the rest of the clothes until the chest was entirely empty, Zormna found three large manila envelopes at the bottom. She took out all three. Opening the top of the first one, she examined the contents.

Jennifer stopped sorting. Her eyes fixed on the paper Zormna had extracted. Leaning nearer, she read what was on it.

It was a document. Naturalization papers, making one Bradley Clendar a legal American citizen. There was also an Irish passport, a driver’s license, a record of insurance and a few other things. Zormna held the passport longer, peering at the picture. Zormna drew in deep breath, sighing yearningly at the image. Then she went through the other envelopes.

Jennifer picked up the passport to look at it. A blonde man with eyes as green as Zormna’s stared back at her. He also had a cleft in his chin, making him look rather dashing. His gaze was only a mite more relaxed than Zormna’s. They were definitely related.

Zormna pulled out another passport, this one of a woman. She stared at it a long time. Jennifer peeked over Zormna’s shoulder.

The woman had blond hair and blue eyes that reminded Jennifer of the crazy lady much more than Zormna ever had. Of course, this woman was physically shaped as Zormna was. She even had dimples in her smile, just like Zormna did. The passport said the woman’s name was Mary.

Jennifer hovered impatiently over Zormna’s shoulder when she pulled out the passport from the final envelope. The photograph showed a toddler with light curly hair and bright green eyes. The little girl’s face was perfectly cherubic. The name next to it said Sarah.

Zormna leaned back, blinking. “I would have been Sarah Clendar?”

“It’s less weird than Zormna.” Jennifer shrugged, trying to banish the unsettling silence that had enveloped the room.

She went back to sorting through the dresses.

Zormna chuckled, but it sounded

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