Page 143 of Switch!

“I texted him,” Trixie says casually. “In-flight wi-fi. I had to pay for the privilege, but when you couldn’t find a body, it was the only option that made sense.”

“And Jesse is fine with going to Cheyenne with us? What about his job?”

“He has four days off somehow,” Trixie says.

I just worked three twelve-hour shifts in a row, Jesse explains.Um. Can you hear me?

“Loud and clear,” I reply. “That still doesn’t leave much time.”

I can take an additional sick day or two, if needed.

A week should be more than enough to get there, and with any luck, find some way to help. “How soon can we leave?”

Trixie leaps to her feet. “Let’s find out!”

She rushes from the room. I follow, and when I see that she’s at the breakfast bar with her laptop, I sit next to her and watch the screen. There aren’t any direct connections. We’ll have to fly into Denver and drive from there. Jesse offers to rent a car, but when I start tallying up prices for everything, my stomach sinks.

“We can’t afford that!”

“I’ll make it work,” Trixie insists, angling the laptop away from me.

Jesse’s pocket vibrates shortly after. I pull out his phone and notice a text.

Colin:Are you with them? Have they taken over your mind? Give me back my boyfriend!

I laugh and write him back, but I don’t hit send. Instead I say, “Up to you,” before relinquishing control to Jesse. The text reads:His mind is fine, but I bet his body misses you. Wanna come over and hang with us?

Jesse reads this and laughs. Then he hits send.

— — —

I’m going to see my mom again. The flights are booked. I’m going home. This fills me with so much yearning that Jesse feels compelled to call his own mother. That’s when I realize that I want to call mine. She won’t recognize my voice, but I want to hear hers, if only to know that she’s okay, so I come up with the perfect excuse.

My mom has infinite patience for telemarketers. I do not. She would scold me for hanging up on them. “They’re just trying to make a living,” she told me once. “You don’t have to buy what they’re selling, but you do need to be kind.” She’ll talk to me. I won’t try to sell her life insurance. I’ll ask if she has time for a quick survey and have her rank how happy and healthy she feels.

I’m with Jesse at the moment. He’s driving to pick up takeout. Colin will be off work soon and we’re going to meet back at the house for dinner. Jesse pulls over to a payphone at a gas station so I can make my call. Neither one of us have used one before, but it’s easy enough to figure out. I’m soon holding a heavy plastic banana to my ear while listening to it ring.

Nobody picks up. My mom’s schedule can change, depending on turnover, so I call the diner next, my palms sweaty when the line clicks.

“Jack’s Place,” a voice says.

“Is Diana working tonight?” I ask.

“Yep. Who’s this?”

Oh. I can’t say that I’m doing a survey. People don’t get calls like that at work, so I utter the only excuse I can think of. “I’m with her son’s school. Could I speak to her please?”

“Sure. Hold on.”

I listen to the background noises—babbling voices and dishes being stacked—before I hear rustling. And then her voice.

“Who is this?” she says, sounding impatient. It must be a busy night.

“I’m with your son’s school,” I say, my mind racing. “We’re calling each parent to do a survey on how—”

The line clicks, the background noises stopping suddenly.

“Hello?”