I rubbed my temples. “This is all very weird.”
“Let’s pretend we’re twins,” she said. “How’s that?”
I liked the sound of that. “Twins,” I said. My face hurt from smiling, but then my smile faded as reality set in. “Wait, I’ll have to go on a journey of self-discovery every time I need to improve or change my life?”
She wrinkled her nose and nodded. “Yes. But there are upsides!”
“They better be good,” I grumbled.
“You can stay young a very, very long time if you want.” Smiling, she tossed her blond bob and batted her eyelashes. Nancy Drew, eternally a teenager. “And you’re a fictional character without a book of your own. So I suppose you can simply pick one.”
“What if I pick this one? What will happen?”
“I’d like that,” she said. “But if I have a sister in this book…Well, there are a lot of Nancy Drew books that came after this one. Over six hundred.”
“You mean, if I stay here and live with you and your…ourfather, over six hundred books will change?”
She nodded, wincing.
“No wonder Dr. Fanshawe didn’t want me figuring out who I am,” I said. “She freaks out if a single sentence changes in a single book. But a new character in six hundred books? Maybe I shouldn’t live here. Your books mean so much to so many people. Changing them might hurt readers who need these stories.”
“You’re my sister,” Nancy said. “You’re welcome to stay, whatever the consequences.”
“Wish I could stay, but I still need to find Pops. Any idea where he is now?”
“I was wondering when you’d ask.”
—
“Pops!”
If there was ever a moment to use an exclamation point, it was now.
I ran to him where he stood in the doorway and threw my arms around him.
“Hello, Raindrop,” he said. “Long time no see.” He squeezed me tight and slapped me a few dozen times on the back. Hugs were an extreme sport with my grandfather.
I pulled back and glared at him. “Where have you been?”
“Where do you think?” he asked.
Whirling, I faced Nancy Drew, who was watching us with a little smile on her face.
“He was here all this time and you didn’t tell me?”
“Don’t get cross with poor Nancy,” Pops said. “I’m just as guilty.”
“Confess,” I said. “Immediately.”
“When I finally figured out what your mother had been trying to tell us all this time, thatThe Secret of the Old Clockwasn’t simply a book she loved but the answer to all our questions…Well, I had to be sure before I said anything to you. I’d always wondered why Fanshawe had confiscated all your mother’s case notebooks and papers when she died. What were they trying to cover up?”
“Me,” I said. “That a real person had a child with a fictional character.”
“Incendiary stuff,” Pops said. “But more important…I couldn’t risk telling you that you had a father and a sister without making sure I was right. I pretended I was leaving on a top secret mission to whereabouts unknown, hopped into the book, and was finally able to confirm my hunch.”
“Why didn’t you come back sooner?” I demanded. “It’s not safe for you to stay in a book that long. What if you’d forgotten who you were? Is everyone a rule-breaker in this family but me?”
Pops only shrugged. “Even if I spent a year in a book, Raindrop, I’d never forget I’m your grandfather. And in fairness, I tried to come back sooner. Mrs. Turner put the book in the safe.”
