56 Only to watch, I remind myself. Not to bilocate. Just watch. Halli is sitting in class, bouncing her heel rapidly against the floor. She’s already looked at the clock four times in the brief time I’ve been watching. She’s tensed up like a horse about to bolt out of a starting gate. I wish I could tell her I’m here. How did Dr. Venn say they did it? Not invading another person’s mind, but whispering into it somehow, making suggestions, giving nudges. “Halli, it’s Audie. I have things to tell you. Important things. Can you hear me? Scratch your nose if you do.” She doesn’t. But she does tug at her earlobe. Is that the same, but just a miscommunication? I have no idea. When the bell rings Halli is up and out of her chair and out the door in record time. She shoulders my backpack and

