"It's so unfair," I muttered, wriggling into the starched white shirt. It was fresh from the laundry and still warm. It was a little tight across the chest, which meant it had either gotten smaller or I'd graduated to another cup size in the last month. Either seemed likely.

Mercy flashed me an unrepentant grin over her shoulder. She was comparatively flat, and the sweater vest that went on over the shirt pressed them down into nigh invisibility. I'd started to keep her spare uniform in my room for the mornings when she woke in my room. She pulled her red curls free of the whole thing and bound them behind her head in a high ponytail with two flicks of her wrist.

"It's not my fault I was an only child. My parents made it up to me by spoiling me. I'm just glad it's no longer held in trust. Seriously, can you imagine how much your parents would have to shell out to get each of you a car? Besides, you aren't old enough to drive without an adult sitting beside you."

Vertigo washed over me for a moment. A hazy image of my hands clenched around a steering wheel, the wind whipping my hair behind me flicked through my mind and then scattered like dandelion fluff on a breeze. Probably a dream. The few times I'd been in a car, I'd managed to dent both bumpers and put out a headlight. I'd never reached highway speeds.

"Still, it's a car. No more busses for you."

"For us," she corrected grin widening. "Sweet, sweet freedom. I'll give you a ride to school when the Jawas are safely on their way. Who knows? Maybe we can hit that party tonight."

"I wouldn't call it a party," I said with a laugh. "It's a handful of potheads passing around a bong and drinking vodka straight from the bottle. Sounds like a good way to get mono. Not to mention the hell we'll catch if we get arrested."

"Buzzkill," she said, but the amused glint in her eyes took the sting out of the word. "We have to do something fun tonight. It's a potions night, which means we'll be sleeping over at Harry's. Plausible deniability. We leave early, but tell Harry we're running late. An hour won't hurt."

"And what kind of mischief could we get up to in an hour?"

Her smile turned positively vulpine. "All kinds. Now let's get downstairs. I think I hear Aunt Charity bellowing."

We marched down the stairs, plucking a fleeing Hope from the entryway. She'd been stripped down to her underwear and had managed to smear something that looked suspiciously like chocolate syrup down her chest. I managed to wrestle her into the kitchen sink and scrub the stuff off while Mercy rounded up the rest of the Jawas, brushing hair, straightening uniforms, and hunting down backpacks while I struggled with my youngest sister. It took a half hour but we managed to get everyone washed, dried, and presentable enough to catch the bus.

The radio blared when Mercy started the engine, startling both of us. Static squealed through the speakers so loud and unexpected that I slapped my hands over my ears. The stations flickered by so fast that we only heard one or two words at a time.

Got your number, bitch.

Mercy's lips went white, and she mashed the button down so hard it crunched. The sound cut off abruptly, and her heaving breaths were the only thing I could hear in the stillness of the car. Something dangerous glinted far back in her eyes.

"It's okay, Mer," I said, laying a gentle hand on her shoulder. She was shaking with rage. Over a radio. "It's probably my fault. Maybe Dad can repair it."

Mercy glowered at the garage doors for a moment and then exhaled sharply through her nose. "Stubborn thing. Why won't you just cooperate?"

I wasn't sure if she was talking to me or the car so I said, "Not really in my nature."

Mercy sighed. "I'm painfully aware of that. I even admire it, even though it is vastly irritating."

"I think I have that monogrammed on a hankie somewhere," I mused. "Maybe I should have it stitched into my clothing too. Vastly irritating underpants."

"Property of a smartass," Mercy quipped, backing the car from its spot. "Perfect for when you flash the powers that be with your dazzling...wit."

I punched her arm. She laughed. Some of the tension eased. At least until she said, "Do me a favor."

"What kind of favor?"

She took her eyes off the road for a split second, and there was ice in her stare. I shrank back into my seat on reflex.

"If something odd happens to the radio or phones around you, turn them off. At least, until we can talk to Harry about it."

"You think something weird is going on?"

"I know it is," she muttered darkly. "And I'm going to do something about it. Now buckle up, Molly. We have places to be."