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rain boot stretched out and stepped forward.
    That was when my brain shut down and something else took over. My shadow was a magnet, dragging me along, leading me onto the driveway toward the power line, which was spitting sparks into the air—high-voltage venom.
    But now I wasn’t scared. I watched all this play out, a spectator in my own head.
    The sparks were raining down around me. I crouched, and my shadow hands reached out, my real ones following after them. The charged air lifted the hairs on my arms.
    The wire snapped out blindly, as if searching for contact.
    Then it struck my hands.
    An explosion of cold fire blasted through me, freezing me rigid for a long second. Then I was flying, thrown back. I hit the garage door and crumpled to the ground.
    My heart forgot to beat. I hurt everywhere. Every inch and atom of me.
    I lay there with my cheek pressed to the pavement.My eyes were still working. Before I blacked out, I saw a pair of shadow boots standing beside me. My stare was locked straight ahead, couldn’t look up. The boots were black silhouettes cut from the bright morning air.
    I could feel my legs jerking convulsively, trying to get me up and running away from this dark thing.
    I thought if it touched me I’d fall through that black hole shaped like my shadow. It would swallow me.
    My vision started to die off, flickering in and out. And with every fading glimpse, those boots seemed closer.
    Ten thousand volts, the doctors told me. That was the shock I took when I touched the live power line. Should be dead—they didn’t say it, but I knew what they were thinking.
    My fingers were burned badly, scabby and peeling for weeks. The nails turned black and fell off. I had to wear the gloves, not just to hide my hideousness but to keep my hands safe from infection. My ears rang with an annoying mosquito buzz off and on for months, driving me crazy.
    I told Mom and Dad I didn’t see the fallen line till it was too late. Like it snuck up on me.
    Why couldn’t I tell them the real story? Because it was so impossibly crazy. I didn’t want to believe it—that my shadow could turn on me. I’d buried the memory of my earlier poisoning so deep it had the feel of a strange dream. This brought it all back.
    Denial is a powerful thing. I told myself the electrocution had messed with my mind, knocking me out andmaking me remember things wrong. I hadn’t seen what I’d thought I was seeing.
    Still, one night when Mom was tucking me in, I asked her: “Does my shadow have a life of its own?”
    She laughed. “Your shadow is stitched to your feet. Can’t make a move without you.”
    But what if mine had come unstitched somehow? What would it try next?

Everybody in the cafeteria is watching.
    “What’s with all the staring?” I ask Lexi. “Are they expecting me to put on a show? Do a trick?”
    “Get used to it, you’re a celebrity. A living, breathing magic trick. You danced with death, wrestled with the Reaper. And won.”
    Makes it hard to eat when every chew, slurp and swallow is under observation. I’ve spent ten minutes trying to finish this apple.
    “Watch out,” Lexi tells me. “Idiots incoming.”
    Two smirking loser guys are heading toward us. I brace myself, putting on my armor inside. Making my heart bulletproof.
    “Hey, Jane,” says loser number one. “Heard you got nailed. Try getting screwed next time. Might put a smile on your face.”
    Number two snorts a laugh.
    “Yawn,” Lexi says. “Seriously, that’s the best you and your boyfriend could come up with?” She holds up her cell phone and snaps a photo of them.
    “What’s that for?” asks number one. “You need something to keep you warm and wet at night?”
    “No. There’s an online support group for virgins. I’ll add your profiles. Thank me later. Bye, now.”
    She gives them a little wave. They leave, muttering “bitch” and “skank” under their breath.
    Lexi rolls her dark eyes at me. “Didn’t you miss all