“I swear, it’s not Tyler who’s coming. It’s a friend of mine named Quincy. She’s coming from New York.”
“Okay. And you’re meeting her—”
“Tonight.”
Melodie put her hands on her hips. “Stop dancing around things. When and where?”
Eden swallowed. “The Louvre Pyramid. Nine P.M.”
“Now we’re getting somewhere.” Melodie nodded. “My parents will be home at two P.M. You can stay here until then. But after that, you’re going to need a disguise. All of Paris will be looking for you.” She eyed Eden critically. “In the photo they released, you look exactly like you do now. You’re just asking to get caught. You need to change out of that dress. And the long blond hair is a dead giveaway.”
Eden touched it self-consciously.
“It was clever of you to pick up this hat.” Melodie pulled it off and tossed it on the floor. “But it’s not good enough. Plus, it smells like a toilet.” She made a gagging face.
“What are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking you’re lucky you met me.” Melodie smirked. “Clothes are my specialty—and you’re going to be my new project.”
In the lamp, Eden had grown up with an enormous closet filled with elegant dresses, luxurious furs, and finely crafted shoes. None of it had meant much to her; her favorite part was the back wall, where she’d tallied her granted wishes with an old tube of lipstick. She was far more concerned with her countdown to freedom than anything within the lamp’s gold walls.
Now that she lived on Earth, she understood how rare it was to own such a large collection of clothing. In Mission Beach, Sasha’s shorts, jeans, and tank tops had all fit into a dresser in her half of the room she shared with Tyler. And Pepper’s clothes hung in a tiny closet in her studio apartment.
However, Melodie’s wardrobe rivaled Eden’s former closet—in size, at least. The content might have come from a different planet.
The closet itself didn’t contain even half her clothes. They’d spilled out and overtaken her room. Wardrobe racks spanned the lengths of three of her walls, with her bed against the fourth. On the racks were clothes of every imaginable color, material, and style, including sequins, ruffles, leather, and animal print.
Thumbtacked to the wall space above the wardrobe racks were design sketches and pages ripped from fashion magazines. There were also dozens of hats hanging on pegs.
“Wow,” Eden said. “You do love clothes.”
“I told you.” Melodie started to sift through the racks. “Now, what we’ve got to do is find something that looks like the opposite of anything you’d ever wear.”
“Isn’t the point for me to go unnoticed?” In Eden’s line of sight were an orange jumpsuit that looked like a prison uniform, a shiny green skirt like a mermaid’s tail, and a feathered Native American headdress. “I don’t think I’d blend in wearing most of this stuff.”
“We’ll put you in something subtle.”
Taking it all in, Eden wondered where exactly Melodie planned to find that.
Though Melodie’s wardrobe seemed chaotically disorganized from an outsider’s perspective, she seemed to know precisely where everything was. After careful consideration, she pulled out a white collared shirt, a navy blazer, a pleated green-and-navy skirt, shiny black shoes, and a navy beret to top it all off. Eden put all of it on as instructed.
“See?” Melodie said delightedly. “You’re just a regular student in Paris!”
Eden examined herself in the full-length mirror on the closet door. She had to admit, she did look pretty normal. There was just one problem. “But you can still see my hair.”
Melodie frowned. “Hmm…” She snapped her fingers. “I’ve got it! I know just what you need. But I have to go to a store to buy it. Can you wait here?”
Eden didn’t say anything. What if Melodie was planning to go somewhere and turn her in?
“After all this, you still don’t trust me?” Melodie shook her head. “I’ll leave my phone here so you know I’m not making any sneaky calls. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“I’ll be back soon!” she called on her way out the door.
Eden cleared a polka-dot dress off Melodie’s bed to make space, then lay back on the pillows. She seriously hoped Melodie was right that this disguise would keep her safe until Pepper arrived.
But what then? As much as Eden would love to turn around and go back to New York, they couldn’t do that. Xavier and Goldie were in serious danger. They had to get the lamp back from Brightly.
The problem was, she had no idea how. It would be insane for her to go anywhere near Brightly Tech when he was scouring the city for her.
Eden frowned at the ceiling. There had to be a chink in Brightly’s armor, but it was hard to imagine what it could be. He had unlimited resources, and access to the world’s most advanced technology. He was highly intelligent and extremely confident. Until Eden had escaped, he’d been completely in control. The only exception was when he’d caught her in a lie. He would have thrown a full-blown tantrum if Jane Johnston hadn’t convinced him to simmer down.
It seemed that Jane’s influence on Brightly was considerable. That might be important, Eden thought. Maybe it could help her somehow. But in order to find out how, she needed to know more about Jane and her relationship with Brightly.
She sat up and looked around the room. Melodie had left her phone on the nightstand next to her bed. Under it was a laptop computer.
“I’m back!” Melodie called as the front door slammed. She came into the bedroom holding a plastic bag. Reaching in, she pulled out what looked like a small animal.
“Ew,” Eden said. “What’s that?”
“Your secret weapon. Can you put your hair in a low bun?”
Eden used the elastic around her wrist to secure her hair in a twisted knot at the nape of her neck. Melodie stood up and affixed the hairy brown thing to her head. Eden winced as she adjusted its stretchy, scratchy edges.
Next, Melodie fitted the navy beret on top. She took a step back to evaluate.
“Voilà!” She clapped her hands. “You’re no longer Eden Brightly!”
Eden turned to the mirror. For the first time in her life, she was a brunette. The wig now on her head was exactly like Melodie’s hair: a dark-brown bob, with long, side-swept bangs.
The hair made her whole face look different. She looked slightly older, and more serious and sophisticated. Her skin seemed paler, and her eyes were bluer and more piercing.
“It suits you,” Melodie said. She pulled another wig out of the bag. This one was neon orange and shoulder-length. “This one’s for me,” she said slyly as she put it on. She whistled when she saw herself in the mirror. “Hot like fire.”
“How long before your parents are home?” Eden asked.
Melodie checked her watch again. “About an hour.”
“Before I go, can I use your computer?” Eden was thinking she could use the Internet to search for information on Jane. She might as well check her messages, too. She didn’t really expect a response from Sasha, but it couldn’t hurt to check.
Melodie handed the laptop to Eden. “All yours.”
“Thanks.” Eden opened it and was happy to see the same symbol that had taken her to the Internet in the library. As she clicked it, she decided it was safe to tell Melodie a little more of the truth. “My uncle can monitor calls on Brightly phones, so I don’t want to call my friend,” she explained. “I’m scared he’d be able to track me down.”
“Wow,” Melodie breathed. “C’est grave.”
“That’s why I’m sticking to messages on the Internet.”
“Um…Eden? Did you leave your common sense at home too?”
Eden paused and looked up from the computer. “What do you mean?”
Melodie sat next to her on the bed. “Your uncle basically controls the Internet. If he can monitor phone calls, he can definitely monitor things online.”
Apprehension rippled
through Eden. “You think so?”
“Yes!”
Her skin started tingling with fear. Why hadn’t she thought of that?
Melodie shook her head in confusion. “I don’t understand how you’re so clueless about technology when you live with David Brightly.”
“I guess I wasn’t thinking.” Eden breathed deeply, trying not to panic.
Melodie tucked her hair behind her ear. “Let’s stay calm. In the message you wrote at the library, did you say when and where you were meeting your friend?”
“Yes. But I sent it from a fake profile.”
“Okay, that’s good. Your real name wasn’t anywhere in the messages?”
Eden thought back and winced. “It was.”
If Brightly or Jane saw those messages, they’d see that she was planning to meet Pepper at 9 P.M. at the Louvre Pyramid. They’d also see that she’d been at the Sorbonne Library this morning. What if they went looking for her there? It was just across the street.
Eden jumped up. “I need to get out of here.”
“I think you’re right,” Melodie said. “My parents will be home before long anyway. And even if you weren’t on the run, I’d be in big trouble for having you here.”
“Why?”
“Technically, I’m grounded this week. I’m not supposed to have friends over. Oh! I almost forgot.” She reached into the plastic bag again. This time, she pulled out a pair of mirrored sunglasses with round lenses. “One final touch.”
When Eden put them on, her mirror image became almost unrecognizable.
“Perfect, right?”
“Not bad,” Eden admitted.
“Now come on, let’s go.”
“You’re coming too?”
“Mais oui,” said Melodie. “You obviously need my help.” She picked up her camera from the bed. “Anyway, I still need photos for my blog.”
“But you’re grounded. Doesn’t that mean you’re not supposed to leave home?”
“They can’t do anything about it if they don’t know where I am.” Melodie’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Now come on. Let’s go!”
As they left the apartment, purpose propelled Eden’s steps. When they reached the tiny elevator, she ran right past it. With one smooth movement, she hopped on the banister and slid right down it, spiraling all the way to the bottom.
She’d known the skills she’d perfected in the lamp would come in handy someday.
Eden stayed in the lobby while Melodie went out to investigate. After a minute, she opened the big wooden door and slipped back in.
“There’s a man standing outside the library with his arms crossed. Looks like he could be some kind of guard on watch.”
“What does he look like?” Eden asked.
“Tall, blond. Kind of stiff-looking. About my parents’ age, I guess.”
Eden nodded. “I think I know him. He’s one of Brightly’s people.”
“You call him Brightly?” Melodie frowned as she adjusted her orange wig.
Whoops, Eden thought. She shrugged. “He’s not my real dad, you know.”
Melodie lifted an eyebrow. “We’ll go in the opposite direction. Act casual.” She opened the door and gestured for Eden to follow.
Once they were a safe distance away, Eden looked over her shoulder. Just as she’d suspected, the man keeping watch outside the library was Dr. Patrick Evans.
An unpleasant chill ran through her body. Could one of the others be inside? Jane Johnston? Even Brightly himself?
She jogged to catch up with Melodie.
“Did you get a look at him?” Melodie asked.
“Oui. It’s who I thought it might be.” Eden shook her head. “Good thing you stopped me before I started sending messages from your computer. They might have shown up at your apartment.”
“Aren’t you glad you believed me for once?” Melodie smirked. “By the way, where are we going?”
Eden adjusted her sunglasses. “I still need to search for that information.” She was itching to learn more about Jane Johnston’s relationship with Brightly. “Could we go to a different library? I’ll be careful not to do anything that would trip Brightly’s sensors.”
Melodie seemed doubtful. “You think it’s worth the risk? It would be safer to find somewhere for you to hide all day.”
“I know,” Eden said, “but I need to.” She couldn’t explain to Melodie that she had to find a way to save the lamp and her masters. “I also have to change the location for tonight,” she pointed out. “The fact that Brightly sent people to the Sorbonne Library means they definitely read my messages, and they would have seen the plans we set. They’ll probably be waiting for me at the Louvre at nine.”
“And even if you don’t show, they’ll be there waiting for your friend Quincy.”
Eden shuddered at the thought. “Exactly.”
“You can’t send another message from that account, though,” said Melodie. “They’ll be waiting for you to log in again—and when you do, I bet they’ll show up wherever you are.”
“I know.” Eden scratched her scalp. The wig was itchy, but at least it seemed to be working. So far, no one had given her a second glance.
Melodie snapped her fingers. “I know: we can message your friend from my account. We’ll put it in code, so your uncle’s people won’t pick up on it.”
“That’s a good idea,” Eden agreed. “But where can we do that? I don’t think we should use your phone.”
“True,” Melodie agreed. “Anyway, I turned it off so my parents can’t call me. Now I’ve got to stay under the radar too.”
They turned into a narrow alley lined with small storefronts. There were crêperies, gelato shops, gyro shops, and even a jazz club.
“Are you sure you want to do that?” Eden asked. “If your parents get home and see you’re not there and then they can’t reach you, won’t they be really worried?”
Melodie laughed. “More like really mad! They know me well enough to expect I’ll be out causing trouble somewhere. They’ll be furious.” She threw her shoulders back. “But I don’t care. I’m not going to leave you now. Remember what I told you?”
Eden smiled. Melodie really was une rebelle—but it seemed she was also a loyal friend. Eden was glad she’d decided to trust her.
“Want to grab lunch?” Melodie asked. “These gyros are magnifique.” She kissed her fingers dramatically.
Eden looked back over her shoulder. Dr. Evans hadn’t seen her, but knowing he was so near made her anxious. “Do you think it’s safe?”
“We’ll buy them and keep moving,” Melodie said. “We’ve got to eat, right?”
She bought one gyro for herself, and one for Eden. Eden watched in fascination as a man behind the counter took shavings off a massive cone of meat, striped with fat and rotating on a long stick. He wrapped the meat in pitas, along with lettuce, tomatoes, and tzatziki.
Eden took her first bite as they emerged from the alley. “Yum,” she said.
“What did I tell you?” said Melodie triumphantly. As they ate, she led them toward the river.
“So where can we use a computer?” Eden asked. “Another library?”
“Hmmm.” Melodie touched her nose ring as she thought. “You know the Kiwi store on the Champs-Élysées?”
“Kiwi? As in the bird, or the fuzzy-skinned fruit?”
Melodie came to a sudden stop. The way her forehead crinkled in confusion let Eden know she’d said something wrong. “Kiwi, the brand. Don’t you know it?”
“Um…”
“How could you not know the name of the only tech company in the world that’s big enough to compete with your uncle’s company?”
Eden’s face went hot. “Oh, that Kiwi. Of course.”
Melodie gazed at her intently, like she was searching for something. “You know, if I hadn’t seen that photo, I wouldn’t believe you’re David Brightly’s daughter.”
Eden swallowed. “Adopted daughter.”
“Whatever.” Melo
die shook her head quickly, as if to get rid of the thought, and started walking again. “Kiwi has a store on the Champs-Élysées. They always have computers on display. We can use one there.”
“And Brightly won’t be able to track it, because it won’t be a Brightly computer!” Eden said excitedly.
“I wouldn’t count on that,” Melodie said. “But it’s free to use them, and there’s tons of turnover throughout the day. And it’s better than walking into a Brightly store, don’t you think?”
There was no arguing with that.
As Eden and Melodie walked along the Seine’s south bank, boats loaded with smiling passengers cruised by. Parisian landmarks lined the river’s banks like dignified members of a royal court, and between the bridges, the water glittered as if there were tiny lights beneath the surface. No two bridges were alike. They were made of steel, iron, stone, and wood. Some were for foot traffic only, while cars drove on others. On some of them, street performers played instruments.
There was so much to see that Eden kept getting distracted and falling behind, meaning Melodie kept having to wait for her to catch up. After this happened a few times, Melodie said, “You’ve seen all this, right? You’ve been in Paris for weeks.”
“Even if I’d been here for years, I don’t think I’d ever get used to this,” Eden said.
“Trust me, you would.” Melodie nodded toward the next bridge. “Let’s cross here.”
It was one of the bridges for pedestrians only. The plywood that covered the sides was painted with colorful designs.
“This is the bridge that used to have all the locks,” Melodie said as they turned onto it.
“Locks?”
“You know. The sides were made of wire mesh, and people would come here and hook locks through them. They’d write their names or initials on them with the date. Couples that think they’re going to stay together forever, you know?” Melodie snickered. “Good luck.”
Eden tried to imagine what it had looked like. “Why don’t they do it anymore?”
“The locks were too heavy. The bridge was going to collapse! They had to take them off and cover the sides with wood. You didn’t know about this?”
Eden's Escape Page 8
