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The bus hissed when the doors opened. Chaos was already halfway down the steps before Mystery could grab the strap of her bag.
“Bus was hot. I need air! C'mon, we need to get there before all the good spots are taken.” They’d snuck out earlier. Not far, just downtown, because Chaos saw a flyer for a sidewalk chalk festival and declared it “a mission.”
Pidge had been napping. Flicker and Squid were who-knows-where. Crab was… Being Crab. Night was at the library with Sun. So Chaos dragged Mystery out, promising they’d be back before Bug or Henry noticed.
Unfortunately they had also both forgotten the going-out phone. It was sitting on the kitchen counter next to Henry’s coffee mug.
“Okay,” Mystery grinned, shouldering her bag. As they approached the market Chaos was gone in an instant, a dark blur cutting through the crowd. “Mystery!” she yelled over her shoulder. “This spot! It’s perfect!”
The spot was a wide square of clean concrete right near the fountain. The crowd was thinning now, late afternoon turning into evening. Most of the little kids had gone home with their parents.
“Here,” Chaos shoved a piece of blue chalk at her. “Draw with me. Big wings.”
“Dragon wings,” Mystery corrected, dropping to her knees. The concrete was still warm from the sun. “Mine’s gonna have gold eyes.”
“Mine breathes glitter,” Chaos declared. “And vengeance.”
They drew. And drew. Chaos sprawled on her stomach, tongue poking out, smearing purple into scales. Mystery sketched careful, deliberate lines, time blurring til they sat back, admiring their work. Chaos laughed, leaning forward again and dragging pink chalk across Mystery’s dragon’s tail. “No, no, you gotta give him more spikes! He’s a grumpy dragon!”
Mystery laughed too. She bumped Chaos with her shoulder. “Yours looks like a potato with wings.”
“An angry potato,” Chaos said proudly. She sat back on her heels again, surveying their work. Two massive dragons took up half the square now, blue and purple and gold, with chalk-dust handprints all over both of them. “We should name them.”
“Yours is Tater,” Mystery said immediately.
“Yours is Goldie. Because he’s fancy.”
The sun had dropped behind the buildings. The sunflower vendor was packing up her buckets. Streetlights were turning on, and the shadows slowly grew darker.
“Should we…” Mystery started, looking around. The festival was over. The last family was packing up a stroller. “What time is it?”
Chaos shrugged. “Dunno. Late. But look, we finished!” She flopped backward onto Goldie’s wing, arms spread. “Tater and Goldie. Best dragons ever. Bug would be proud.”
Mystery’s smile faltered. Bug. Who would be checking the clock. Who would see the phone on the counter. Who would—
“Mystery?” Chaos had sat up. Her head tilted, like Night did when he was listening hard. “You okay? You look kinda… pale.”
Mystery looked at her hands. They were shaking, and she didn’t know why. Her stomach felt weird. Empty and sick at the same time. “I… I feel weird? Like, floaty. And cold.”
“We should go,” Chaos spoke, scrambling up. She grabbed Mystery’s bag, slung it over her own shoulder. “Bus. We’ll take the bus home. Bug’ll know what to do if you’re sick.”
Mystery let Chaos pull her to her feet. The world tilted a little. Not enough to fall, but enough to make her grab Chaos’s arm to steady herself. “Bus…”
They got to the corner. The bus stop sign was there. The bench was empty. The route map behind glass was lit up. Chaos stared at it. “Last route,” she read, finger tracing the numbers. “Last route was… 7:15.”
Mystery leaned against the pole. The streetlight above them flickered. “What time… is it now?”
Chaos looked at the clock on the bank across the street. Red numbers blinked back at her. 8:04. Her mouth opened. Closed. “No,” she said. “No, that’s wrong. There’s gotta be another one. There’s always another one.”
But there wasn’t. The street was empty. The market was dark. The last car pulled out of the lot down the block.
“Okay,” Chaos said, and she grabbed Mystery’s hands. Her palms were slick with a mixture of chalk dust and sweat. “Okay. Um. Okay. We walk. It’s not far. Just… just like… a few streets? Maybe? We walk home right now.”
Mystery nodded, but her legs felt heavy. Sluggish. Like walking through water. Her vision was starting to fuzz at the edges. “I don’t… I don’t know if I can walk that fast.” Her voice was thin. She hated how thin it sounded.
“Then we go slow,” Chaos decided. “Like, real slow, we can be snails. C’mon.” She hooked her arm through Mystery’s, solid and warm. “Lean on me. I got you.”
They made it one block. Past the dark fountain. Past the closed sunflower cart. Mystery’s steps were dragging. Her shirt was sticking to her back, but she felt cold anyway. Her hands wouldn’t stop shaking.
Then: footsteps. Running. Hard. Two sets.
Chaos whipped her head up, eyes wild, ready to fight, ready to scream for help, even if no one seemed to be around—
Flicker skidded to a stop first, hoodie half-zipped, hair a mess like she’d shoved it back mid-sprint. Squid was right behind her, silent as always, but her chest was heaving. In Flicker’s hand: the little zipper case with the bright medical sticker.
Chaos stared. “You—”
“Kitchen counter,” Flicker gasped out, but her eyes weren’t on Chaos. They were locked on Mystery, scanning her face, her trembling hands, the way she was leaning all her weight on Chaos. “Next to Henry’s coffee. Saw the phone. Saw you two weren’t home.”
Relief hit Mystery so hard her knees buckled. Flicker catching her.
“Hey, whoa,” Flicker said, voice dropping from her usual smirk to something softer. Urgent. “Easy, Mysty. We got you. You’re okay. We’re here.”
Squid was already moving. She took the case from Flicker, unzipped it, and pulled out the pen. Her hands were steady.
Chaos couldn’t speak. She just clutched Mystery’s hand, blue and purple chalk smearing between their fingers. Tater and Goldie’s colors.
Squid checked the pen. Click. Then she looked at Mystery, “Can you do it, or do you need help?”
Mystery’s breath shuddered out.“ I can… I think I can.” But her hands were still trembling too hard to even reach for it.
Flicker didn’t wait for her to try. She crouched a little, putting herself between Mystery and the empty street, blocking the wind. Her tone left no room for argument. “Nah. Let Squid. You just breathe, okay? In and out. Like Bug taught you.”
Squid pressed the pen to her arm and it clicked, Mystery flinching at the pinch.
For a second, nothing. The streetlight still buzzed. The dog still barked somewhere far off. Then Mystery’s shoulders slumped. Not collapsing, just… the tension leaking out. The awful floaty feeling was receding. She was still pale. Still shaky. But her eyes were clearer. “Thanks,” she rasped.
Squid was already packing the kit back up. Her movements were calm, deliberate. She reached out and tucking a loose strand of hair behind Mystery’s ear. Gentle.
Flicker let out a breath she’d been holding since the kitchen. She ruffled Chaos’s hair, then Mystery’s. “Okay. Crisis averted. Cmon, let’s all get up. We’re walking home before Bug sends Henry out with a search party.”
Mystery nodded, but her legs were still wobbly. “I’m… I’m okay,” she mumbled. “Just dizzy.”
“Yeah, no kidding,” Flicker muttered. She slung Mystery’s empty bag over her own shoulder after grabbing it away from Chaos. “You need to remember to bring your kit with you.”
Squid stepped up on Mystery’s other side, sliding an arm around her shoulder, Flicker taking the other side. They started walking. Slow. Squid and Flicker holding most of Mystery’s weight, Chaos bouncing in front, backwards, watching Mystery’s face like if she looked away she’d disappear again.
“You’re gonna be grounded for like, a year,” Flicker told Chaos conversationally. “Bug’s gonna bubble-wrap you both.”
“Worth it,” Chaos said immediately, lifting her chin. “Tater and Goldie are masterpieces.”
Mystery managed a real smile at that. Small. Tired. But real. “Best... angry potato ever.”