The Demon Catchers of Milan Read Online Free Page B

said.
    “Hey,” she said.
    We sat down on the porch steps.
    “Maybe you could come with me,” I said.
    “Maybe I could, later. We don’t have money for more than one ticket.”
    We sat for a while, picking at the grass that grew in the cracks on the steps.
    “I knew you had decided,” she said. “I knew you would go.”
    I thought about not having her around to read my mind.
    “Are you mad? Or maybe jealous?” I asked.
    She thought about this, then shook her head.
    “Yeah, I mean, I would love to go to Italy and everything,” she answered. “But I saw what you were like.”
    She paused, pulling at a particularly tough piece of grass as if that were all that mattered. “It was terrifying. I don’t know what it was like for you. I mean, I couldn’t really tell whether you were there or not? Don’t take this the wrong way.”
    “I’m not,” I said. “I understand.”
    “Anyway, it scared the crap out of me, and I think what you’ll have to do over there will be scary, too. It’s going to be hard work, and I think it’s going to take you to the edge, know what I mean?”
    When Gina raised her face to me, the joking light gone out of it, that’s when I really got frightened.
    “Wow,” I said finally.
    “Yeah, wow. I guess we’re all kind of still in shock. You too, I bet.”
    “Yeah.”
    I threw a clump of grass; it seemed to fall slowly in the evening heat.
    “Gina …” I had remembered something. “I’m sorry about anything I did to you.”
    She closed a hand over mine, and her touch started my tears. They fell on my knees, one little splash, another little splash, another. When I finally looked up, she said, “It’s okay. It’s okay, because now I can see you really are back.”
    I cried even harder, letting her put her arms around me and hug me tight until I was finished.
    “I still don’t believe it, right?” I said. “But I have to. Things happened that I can’t explain, Gina. But I’m starting to understand that I have to go with them. That is,” I added, “when hell freezes over and Dad lets me.”
    Gina snorted.
    “He has to let you go,” she said. “We all do,” she added, and I heard tears in her throat. Then she braced herself and went on,“He knows it’s the only way, and he doesn’t like it. That’s why he’s shouting.”
    I stared at her.
    “How come you always know this stuff, and I can never figure it out until long afterward? It always takes me, like, a year. I’m the older one, right? I’m supposed to be the one who figures everything out.” I sighed and pulled up some more grass.
    She shrugged and looked out over the yard. After a while she said, “I know you think I’m the smart one. But you know these things. And you know other things. You sell yourself short, Mia. You always have. Maybe it’s because you’re the older one, and they expect so much of you. I don’t know.”
    It’s always seemed strange to me that I’m the big sister. Gina is so smart, so pretty, so together—all the things I am not. Sometimes people think she’s the older one, even though she’s two years younger. It’s like my parents got it right on the second try. Or maybe the first kid gets all the worry, and the younger one can relax more.
    I turned my thoughts back to leaving and Italy.
    “How soon do you think?” I began.
    “As soon as possible.” She grinned, poking my shoulder. “No, but really. I think you should go as soon as you can. We don’t know when it’s going to come back.”

FOUR
    The Journey East
    T he next morning, as I was waking up, I tried to see through the walls, but they were blunt and closed. I rolled out of bed, wondering if the world would ever make sense again. At least breakfast felt real and normal: orange juice, toast, bickering parents, my sister running late. I wondered if anyone would ask after me at school. Probably not.
    I looked at myself in the mirror after breakfast. (My mom always teases me about that. When you were a kid,