The last bell finally rang. Before I left the classroom I paused to look at Audrey's empty chair. Audrey had been absent from school all week. I didn't care; we hadn't spoken in two months, not since school had started. With a deep-throated growl audible only to me, I picked up my book-bag and followed the line of students into the crowded hall, wending my way toward the main doors.
            Whatever had happened to Audrey wasn't my problem. We weren't friends anymore. Audrey had given to me, and then stolen, my greatest opportunity; she'd taken me to Arcadia, a magic world where living dolls danced and sang. I'd proven to be a great magician, chanting and flipping my jump rope with a mastery even Audrey couldn't claim. Together we'd defeated Punch and freed the baby dolls.
            Then Audrey had done the unthinkable; Audrey had banished me from Arcadia.
            How could anyone forgive such a betrayal?
            Arcadia was incredible, a place where all my dreams could come true. Wealth, fame, and power ... everything magic could conjure was mine ... and then Audrey had crushed my dreams.
            Audrey had never really been my friend. Looking back over our five-year friendship, I could see now that everything Audrey had ever said hid secret meanings; dark, unkind, and downright insulting.
            Audrey and I had never been alike. I was cool and popular while Audrey was quiet and shy. I liked the newest, loudest jammin' music while Audrey liked old songs whose lyrics were clear and romantic. I loved gold jewelry and fancy clothes while Audrey dressed plain, not caring about fashions or labels. My skin was as brown as Hershey's chocolate while Audrey was white as cream. But our biggest difference was ambition; I wanted everything life had to offer while Audrey seemed content with whatever she got. Our differences would've eventually driven us apart so I really hadn't lost very much ...
            ... except Arcadia.
            Audrey had tried to talk to me several times since school started, but Audrey's expelling me from Arcadia was the act of an eternal enemy. I wouldn't listen. I could never trust her again, and whatever was keeping her out of school all week, I hoped it was painful.
            In the sunlight I walked past rows of parked school busses lining the busy lot and the driveway lined with parents waiting to collect their kids. I joined the familiar crowd who walked home, which used to include Audrey. Step by step, three blocks passed amid pointless babble, and other kids slowly broke off to head to their homes, until I was alone.
            Carrying my book-bag, I passed a large, fancy gray car, almost a limousine, parked outside my building, and then I ascended the elevator to my condo.
            I inserted my key and turned it in the lock, but felt no resistance; the front door of my condo hadn't been locked ...!
            I paused and stepped back, wary: Mother never forgot to lock our door! This was unheard of ... and a serious potential threat. We always locked our door. If Mother had come home from work early, then she still would've locked the door. Had we been robbed? What if the robbers were still inside?
            What should I do?
            Pocketing my key, I grasped the doorknob lightly, and as gently and silently as possible I slowly twisted it.
            Peering into the narrow gap, I saw most of our living room unchanged, nothing out of place. I inched the door open slightly wider and spied a clear view of our hallway and kitchen. Nothing seemed missing or disheveled and no strange noises reached my ears. I stepped inside and glanced about.
            Sitting quietly upon our couch was the last person I expected to ever see again.
            "Great Aunt Virginia ...!" I exclaimed.
            "Hello, Hilary Agatha Martin," Great Aunt Virginia said.
            Great Aunt Virginia looked the same as always, austere, aged, with bright silver hair like chrome wire spun about her head, each strand uniformly rigid and perfectly in place. She had sea-green eyes, was very thin, and wore a long, full dress; a tight bodice above ballooning skirts, under which only the toes of highly-polished, sharp-pointed shoes could be seen. Her dress appeared to be entirely of embroidered black silk with traces of white lace puffing out at her collar and cuffs ... I'd always wondered if she'd sewn it herself. A broach on her collar showed a natural golden leaf trapped in a dark-glass oval, but it was of no plant that Audrey or I knew. Beside her rested a thick cane, leaning against a large carpet-bag purse, both of which were probably antiques and worth a fortune. Her cane seemed to be made entirely of ebony, like the black keys on a piano, but it was smooth, intricately carved, and two small red gems gleamed from its handle like watchful eyes.
            "A pleasure to see you again, sweet child," Great Aunt Virginia said.
            "I ... didn't think you ... wanted to see me anymore," I said.
            "Children take the slightest grain of evidence and make mountainous assumptions," Great Aunt Virginia said. "Do you have any evidence that I disliked your company?"
            "Well, no ...," I said.
            "And yet you'd be insulted if I called you a child," Great Aunt Virginia said.
            I bit my lip and said nothing.
            "Hilary, I need you to come to Arcadia," Great Aunt Virginia said.
            "But ... Audrey said I could never go there again ...!" I said.
            "Audrey is also a child," Great Aunt Virginia said. "She made a false assumption."
            "Can we go now?" I asked.
            "No, we must wait for your mother," Great Aunt Virginia said. "I can't let you face this risk without her permission. Another threat has arisen ... far greater than Punch."
            "Can't Audrey handle it?" I asked.
            "Audrey can't help anyone," Great Aunt Virginia said. "Audrey has been captured, and without a jumper, I've no means to free her."
            I pressed Great Aunt Virginia for details, but she put me off, insisting it was only polite to wait for my mother. I asked about Princess Gracely, Hiram, and Muskay; Great Aunt Virginia assured me they were all fine, and that the dolls of Arcadia were safe, and would be happy if not for the new threat. I wanted to ask about Audrey but I couldn't; I was still angry with her, so an awkward silence fell.
            I felt excited and terrible. I wanted to return to Arcadia more than anything. I couldn't miss this chance! Yet I didn't want to see Audrey again. Audrey didn't deserve me coming to rescue her. But I didn't think I could leave anyone, even Audrey, in the hands of something worse than Punch. I felt like a hypocrite, like I was telling a lie even though I'd said nothing. I was keeping the fact that Audrey and I weren't speaking unsaid. I was letting Great Aunt Virginia believe in something that wasn't true to get something that I wanted. No matter how justified my anger, I was being untruthful.

            "Hilary!" Mom scolded as she opened the door. "You didn't lock ...!"
            "Mom!" I interrupted her. "We ... have company."
            Mom stepped inside, glanced into our living room and almost dropped her laptop.
            "Virginia ...!" Mom exclaimed, surprised.
            "Forgive me, Madge," Great Aunt Virginia said. "I hope I'm not intruding."
            "No, forgive me," Mom recovered quickly, and she set her computer bag down. "Always a pleasure ...!"
            "You're wondering what I'm doing here," Great Aunt Virginia said. "To be honest, I need help Hilary's help."
            "Arcadia ...?" Mom asked.
            "There's trouble," Great Aunt Virginia said.
            "Is Audrey all right?" Mom asked.
            "Yes and no," Great Aunt Virginia said. "An old enemy has returned and we can't fight her."
            "Why not?" Mom asked.
            "Because the enemy we'd have to fight ... is Audrey," Great Aunt Virginia said.