I had a horrible, sick feeling when I saw that bangle on the seat. I knew the bangle was some sort of magic trap, one that held Katkin imprisoned for decades. My imagination went into a frantic spiral, thinking about what that might mean for Helen. My arm was shaking, and I started to point out the bangle to my father and Uncle Rain when I heard them both exclaim at the same time: ‘There she is!’
I gasped, suddenly needing some air.
Sure enough, Helen was walking toward us through the rain. She stepped into the porch light at the top of the driveway with her hood up over her head and her phone shining onto the path at her feet.
‘Helen!’ Dad called, bounding toward her across the slippery paving and into the driving rain. ‘Helen! Where have you been? We’ve been worried sick.’
Helen stoo
