"—And what about the break in and the deal with the Conte? Do you want to forget about all that just because the snoop has told us to?" Hornet was asking Riccio as I walked inside. Bo was curled up on his mattress, with his kittens, apparently asleep. Shasta was probably up in my room.

"No, I don't," said Riccio. "He'll only find out about the break-in once it's done. And by then we'll be long gone with our money…somewhere."

Riccio's eyes caught Victor's scrawl on the chalkboard again. Then he turned abruptly and vanished into the auditorium. Hornet was about to turn and follow him, when Prop grabbed her arm. "Hold on," he said, "do you still want to steal the wing? Don't you get it? Scipio hasn't done a break-in in his life!"

I leaned against the wall. Neither of them had noticed me yet.

"Who's talking about Scipio?" Hornet asked, crossing her arms. "We'll do it without him. The Conte won't care who gets the wing for him. And once we've got the five million, we won't need anyone. No adults and definitely no Thief Lord. Maybe we should do it tonight. The sooner the better. What do you think? Are you with us?"

"And what about Bo?" Prosper shook his head. "No. If you really want to risk your neck, that's fine. I wish you luck. But I won't do it. My aunt's coming to Venice in two days' time; by then Bo and I will have left the city. I'll try to sneak us on to a ship or an airplane—anything that'll get us away from here. Other people have done it before. It was in the paper a few days ago."

Hornet rolled her eyes. "Yes, and I'm kicking myself for reading it to you. Don't you understand?" Her voice was angry, but there were now tears in her eyes. "That's even more crazy than sneaking into some house. We all belong together now, you and Bo, Riccio, Mosca, Rae and me. We're sort of a family now and—"

"Hey guys, come here!" Mosca shouted from the men's bathroom. "I think that snoop really did repair my radio. Even the cassette's working again."

But Prosper and Hornet didn't react—neither did I.

"Think about it!" Hornet's voice sounded so desperate that it obviously caused Prosper to have second thoughts. "Please!" Prosper sighed and nodded, turning out to find Riccio.

I looked at Hornet. "Hey," I said quietly.

She looked up at me in surprise. "When'd you get here?" she asked.

"Just a few moments ago," I replied, shoving my hands in my pockets. "I couldn't find the courage to go…" I mumbled, feeling a knot in my stomach. The feeling of hopelessness that had emanated from Scipio when I left was seeping into me, chilling my bones and making me feel ill.

"Rae, I'm sorry," Hornet whispered. I looked up at her to see her eyes shining with tears. "It was all true! He really is rich, he has a dad and a mom and he lives in a castle, and he's got maids and all sorts of stuff! He's been lying to us, all of us!"

I knew what that meant. Really, what she was saying was, I feel like he put a knife through my chest, I don't know what to do, I know you must feel like hell and so do I, and I want to help you feel better, but—I stopped the thoughts and chewed my lip. That was what I was feeling,

"It's OK, Hornet," I murmured. "It's no big deal. The break in's still going as planned, right?" A nod. "Alright then. We'll go get it and turn it in. Just like homework." The saying was supposed to be like clockwork, but really, I found the situation more like a hard homework assignment. You didn't really want to do it, but you had to. Thinking about homework, though, made me think of home, which made tears prick at my eyes and my lip tremble…

I clenched my fists, fingers digging into the half-healed cuts that they had already inflicted. "I'm going to go to my room," I lied through my teeth, and turned. I walked out and went to where Bo was. He didn't look up at me as I crouched next to him; his eyes were open, glazed over as he lay there. "Hey, little buddy," I murmured.

He made a soft noise of recognition. "Riccio tried to drown my kittens," he said sadly, pulling the sleeping bundles of fur closer to him. "He tried to throw them into a canal because Scipio had given them to me."

I heard shouting, and I recognized that it was Prosper's raised voice. I could just barely make out the gist of what he was bellowing; he was reprimanding Riccio for trying to drown the kittens and for slapping Bo, and calling Bo names. He was being a good big brother.

I felt guilty that I hadn't really been a good big sister to my own siblings.

"Bo…you've got to understand why Scipio lied—the others don't understand yet, but someday they will," I found myself saying.

He looked up at me. "Is his dad really that horrible?" he asked. His eyes were wide, waiting for an answer.

I nodded sadly. "Yes, his father is really that horrible—even more than that. He hurts Scipio all the time, and is very mean to him. Scipio's mother and he don't live with each other anymore, and apparently his mom is too scared of his dad to come and save Scipio."

"That's awful... Rae, what's a divorce?"

"A divorce is when two married people decide that they don't want to be married anymore. They go through some steps and then legally they 'aren't married'. I don't know about other people, but I've been brought up with everyone telling me that getting a divorce is breaking God's rules; so Scipio's parents' getting a divorce is double bad…"

"Oh... Poor Scip."

"Yeah. He just wants his dad to love him, to show one, teensy little bit of respect or approval. But I'm afraid he's never going to get that." Bo was sitting up now, listening to me, his expression that of solemn attention. It didn't belong on a six-year old's face. "Scipio has a big heart—he just wanted to help you guys survive. He was going to tell you someday, but he was scared of how the others would take it. And he was right to be scared, because look at them! They hate him now," I explained.

He nodded. "Rae…will he be alright?" he asked.

I smiled grimly. If there was one thing I could be sure of, that was it.

"Yeah, Bo. We'll all be alright."

Prop fell asleep soon enough after the others had left, and Bo didn't waste a second before sneaking out after them. I waited until Prosper looked like he was about to wake up, and then woke him myself. I decided to bring Shasta with me. He had been locked inside all day, and he deserved to go on a walk.

We rushed out of the movie theater—the moon was high above the city, illuminating the gray wisps of fog that floated through the empty alleyways with a pearly glow.

Prosper ran without a care, his mind set on finding his brother. His steps rang out loudly on the pavement, and it only served to help spread the slight anxiousness that had been creeping up my spine. "We have to catch up with them before they climb over the wall," he puffed. "Before they break into the house." I knew he was thinking of images of police carrying off Bo, taking away Mosca and Riccio, and dragging Hornet by her stinger-braid.

The Accademia Bridge was extremely slippery in the fog. High above the Grand Canal, Prosper fell and grazed his knee. He fought for his breath as he pushed himself up, and before I could offer a hand, he had started off again on shaking legs.

Soon there was only one more alley go to before we'd be stumbling into the Camp Santa Margherita. Ida's house was on the right, nearly at the opposite end of the square. My asthma was really starting to kick in, and there was a stitch in my side. I was gasping for breath and I cursed all causes of asthma. I hate asthma…Why'd my lungs have to be all weird…stupid genetics…stupid…

Prosper didn't spare one look at me before running up to the door and pressing his ear against it.

I held my breath, trying to still my pounding heart and soothe my aching lungs. My heart was in my mouth; and my ears and my throat. Every frantic beat sounded like a crash of thunder to me. But I knew there wasn't a sound to be heard.

After a few steps through the pitch-black darkness the way became lighter. I saw Hornet's rather petite figure sitting on the wall to the garden. She looked down at us. "Where's Bo?" Prosper hissed. "Why did you take him with you? Bring him back here right now!"

"Calm down!" Hornet shushed. "We didn't bring him along. He followed us and then threatened to wake up the whole Camp Santa Margherita if we didn't help him over the wall. What else could we have done? You know how stubborn he can be!"

"Is he inside?"

"Catch!" Hornet threw him the rope she'd been rolling up. Prosper tied it around his wrist and climbed up. While he was slipping and struggling to climb, I found some older, uneven bricks that would make easy climbing. I dug in my fingers and toes, and then scampered up the wall. When I got to the top I slid over and landed crouched on the other side. Then I went around to the gate and opened it enough for Shasta to slip through.

The damp leaves crunched beneath our feet as we made our way toward the house. Mosca and Riccio were already working on picking the kitchen door's lock. Riccio had blackened his face like Hornet. Bo hid behind Mosca's back when he saw Prosper's stony face. "I should have left you with Esther!" Prosper spat at his little brother. "I'm taking you away right now, come on." He tried to pull Bo from behind Mosca's back but Bo slipped away.

"No, I'm staying!" he shouted—so loudly that I nearly jumped out of my skin, Shasta jumped back, and Mosca clamped his hand over Bo's mouth. We looked anxiously toward the top-floor windows. They remained dark.

"Just leave him, Prosper, please!" Hornet whispered. "It'll be OK."

Mosca took his hand off Bo's mouth. "Don't do that again, Bo, alright?" I asked the little angel. "I nearly passed out!"

"Are the dogs here?" Prosper asked. I shook my head. "If Shasta isn't bothered, they aren't here," I explained.

Riccio knelt down again in front of the kitchen door. Mosca shone his flashlight at the lock.

Hornet walked over to Prosper to whisper with him. I noticed, out of the corner of my eye, that she slipped her fingers through his. I turned to hide the smirk that grew on my face. Riccio said a quick prayer as the lock clicked and then pushed the door open. I was greeted with the pain-filled familiarity of a house. A clock ticked. A fridge hummed. We crept inside, the others with expressions of curiosity and inferiority.

"Shut the door!" Mosca murmured. Hornet let the beam of her light wander across the walls. There was nothing terribly strange about the kitchen, or at least not to me. Sure, it was rather fancy, but it was so much like the one at home that I sniffled. I caught myself quickly, though.

We slipped through a door and found that it led into a narrow corridor, just as it was on the floor plan. After a few yards we came to the staircase. On the wall next to it hung masks, looking ghostly in the flickering beams of the flashlights. One of them looked just like the one Scipio had.

The staircase led to guess what? Another door. Mosca opened it a crack and listened. Then he waved us into another corridor. It was a bit wider than the one of the ground floor. A radiator gurgled somewhere, but otherwise there was blissful silence. Mosca put a finger to his lips as we passed the stairs that led to the second floor. The others cast worried glances up there, while mine was a look of scrutiny. I caught a flash of movement down the hall way. I thought that I could see a moving shadow, disappearing into the darkness through a door. Or maybe it was just my imagination?

I knew that it was most likely a sneaker, and I applauded the fact that he wasn't wearing boots.

"Maybe there's nobody at home," Hornet whispered hopefully. The house did feel deserted in a way, with all its dark and empty rooms. The first two doors we passed led to a bathroom and the cupboard that I had found my blanket.

"Now this is where it gets interesting," Mosca whispered as we stood in front of the third door. "This should be the living room. Perhaps Ida Spavento has put her wing above the couch."

I reached for the door, being closest to it, and recoiled almost immediately. The knob turned, opening from the inside.

It wasn't Ida Spavento standing in the open door. It was Scipio. This was the Scipio the others knew. He wasn't wearing the mask, but he was wearing a hat, his coat and his gloves. I snuck a glance at his shoes and saw that they were black sneakers.

And, personally, I loved his hat.

Riccio stared at him in shock, but Mosca's face was rigid. "What are you doing here?" he spat, pushing forward to tower over Scipio. Scipio was silent. He was just about to slip around Mosca when the taller boy shoved him in the chest. "You think it's still your job, don't you? You lying piece of garbage, you've had a great time, stringing us along, haven't you? The Thief Lord! Well, this may be quite an adventure for you, but we need the money. And that's why we're going to deliver the wing to the Conte. Is it in there?"

Scipio shrugged, his face impassive.

Mosca pushed him roughly aside and disappeared into the room. Scipio staggered and caught himself quickly. "How did you get in here?" Riccio grumbled at Scipio. Scipio regarded him through hooded eyes.

"It wasn't hard—otherwise how would you have done it?" came his nearly emotionless answer. "And I'm telling you, I will give the wing to the Conte. You can have all of the money, but now leave!"

"You leave!" Mosca appeared behind him again. "Or we'll tell your dad that his fine son likes to creep into houses at night!" His voice had grown so loud that Hornet pushed between them. Scipio stepped back nimbly, but Hornet had to shove Mosca away.

"Stop it!" she whispered. "Have you forgotten where we are?"

"You can't take anything to the Conte, Thief Lord," Riccio murmured, his voice soft and yet filled with disgust. "You can't even send him a message because we have the pigeon!"

Scipio chewed his lip, his eyes searching mine. He had completely forgotten about the pigeon. My shoulders twitched, hinting at a shrug. He ducked his head; what I took as a nod.

"Come on," Mosca urged, ignoring Scip. "Let's keep looking. Prosper; you and I will take the left door. Hornet and Riccio—you take the right."

"What about me?" I asked.

Two glares settled on me. One was from Riccio, and one was from Mosca. "Why don't you go snog your boyfriend?" Mosca said with loathing in his voice. My mouth fell open in shock. I didn't know he felt that much hostility for me.

"And keep him out of the way," Riccio added. Scipio remained silent, motionless, and watched after them. His only movement was to brush the back of his hand against mine, to which I responded by giving his hand a tight squeeze. Mosca, Riccio and Hornet had already disappeared behind the doors when Prosper turned back.

"You'd better go home, Scip," Prosper said quietly. "The others are really angry."

Bo remained silent, his uncertain gaze locked on Scipio. "And you?" Scipio asked softly. But when Prosper didn't answer, he turned and ran up the next flight of stairs.