Elena spent a long, long time alone in the camper. She felt like she should cry, but the tears wouldn't come. She sat stroking Winter's fur for a long, long time. She fed Savannah and let her hop around the camper, then put George—her leopard gecko—on her shoulder and cleaned out his cage. Tuesday evening's chore, but she couldn't bring herself to just sit.

One by one, she worked through the week's cage cleanings: the budgies, Kiwi and Honeydew; the rabbit, Savannah; but not the mice, because she had a few days ago, and too much cleaning stressed them out. Something about marking territory.

When she dared to crack the blinds, she saw cars and minivans driving by. She watched distressed parents and kids leave the building. This time, her eyes did fill with tears. Why did they have to send everyone home? Just because one of their team had gone crazy, even if they had assaulted one of the campers, they could just send her away . . .

It hit Elena like a bowling ball to the face. Michelle and Patrick couldn't run camp without a technician. And even if they could, the parents wouldn't send their kids back to a camp where one of the kids had been attacked.

But after everything she had seen, how could she have left Sam at risk?

The door to the camper swung open, and Michelle stepped inside. Elena slowly set down her rag and stood.

Michelle said nothing, but her eyes were livid.

Elena took a shuddering breath. "I—I'm going home."

"Yes."

A stabbing pain pierced Elena's chest. "And . . . camp is cancelled for the week."

"Yes."

She swallowed hard. "H-have you talked to Sam's parents yet? Are they pressing charges?"

"I left Patrick and the site host with the last few campers. Sam was one of them." Michelle looked down for a moment, then back at Elena. "He's been crying."

Elena's eyes fell closed. "Have you talked to Dr. Baker?"

"Not yet, but I can't imagine a situation where he doesn't recommend our funding be discontinued."

"Michelle, I'm so sorry—"

"Stop." She shook her head. "I want to know why."

Elena took a deep breath. She knew what would happen next. She'd make impossible claims about what she'd seen happen around Sam; Michelle would think she was either lying or crazy, since there was no way Elena could be telling the truth.

Elena herself didn't even believe it.

She didn't have a choice. She had to try, even if it would make everything worse. "You remember when I was telling you about how nothing's been working for Sam?"

"Yes. I was hoping he'd volunteer for this to cheer him up."

"But—Michelle, the way things weren't working for him . . . it didn't make sense. In the monochromatic room, the blue in the posters was glowing."

Michelle just stared at her.

"I mean, it's the monochromatic room. You can't see blue in it. It's not—it's not possible. But when Sam was there, I could see it."

Michelle's eyes narrowed, but there was something like curiosity in her expression. She walked over to the kitchen table and gestured for Elena to sit across from her. "Okay, so some weird things happened in the monochromatic room."

"It wasn't just that. Even before that, he couldn't get the lenses to work."

"What do you mean?"

"They weren't forming images. I mean, he had them in place perfectly. He'd step away, and the image would appear. Then he'd get close, and the image went away."

She paused for breath and waited for Michelle to say something, anything. Finally, Elena was forced to go on.

"There's more. When we were lighting bulbs, his was acting weird, too. It looked like the wires were all in place, but the bulb wouldn't light. Then it would, but like, at random times. And I still haven't figured out what was going on with the chemical reaction during the laser show, and he was sitting right up close to it."

"Hm."

"And you know how all those color-changing beads are just pink and yellow and blue?"

Michelle nodded.

"I could swear his turned green and purple."

Michelle's eyebrows raised. "Did you talk to him?"

"He said his uncle told him science works differently for him."

"Wow."

"Earlier today, most of the activities were working for him—I thought the invisible ink darkened without heat, but I might have just been imagining it. And the density activity worked, but . . . I just don't know what's going to work and what isn't, and it's always Sam."

"I see."

Elena winced. "I know, it sounds crazy, but—"

"No." Michelle straightened up and folder her hands on the table. "I think I'm starting to get it."

"You—you are?" Elena's stomach clenched. Now was the time Michelle would tell her that the stress of camp, the pressure of the evaluations, the distraction of knowing her job was at stake, had finally pushed Elena over the edge. Or Michelle would say she was lying to cover herself. At least now, Elena would find out which.

"Who knows what was going on in the monochromatic room? It's already a weird phenomenon, even if it always works."

"I know."

"And we can double check the beads. Maybe we're wrong about what we ordered. You could have just imagined the other colors, but I doubt that. Maybe he had some of his own. They're not that rare."

Elena bit her lip.

"The bulbs and batteries can be a little finicky. No surprises there. And the lenses—I mean, it's really weird that they were only working when he was standing back. But again, the lens only works when it's set up just right. Someone could have bumped the table or the flashlight—there's always an explanation."

"I know, but when—when it's all going wrong for one kid?"

"Exactly. That's the weird part."

Elena's breath froze in her throat. "Do—do you actually believe me?"

"Oh, I don't think you're making this up. And I don't think you're hallucinating."

Elena swallowed hard. "I don't really . . . I mean, obviously I don't think science really works differently for Sam."

"Of course not. But when every single activity isn't working for a particular camper, consistently, and you don't know why . . . you don't let him try the one dangerous activity."

The air in her lungs tasted sweet. "Yes."

There was no anger in Michelle's voice, but a deep sadness in her eyes. "But Elena, you still assaulted a camper."

"I know."

"You could have said something sooner. Last night—"

"I know."

Elena squeezed her eyes shut. Of course Michelle wasn't accusing her of being crazy—that's not who Michelle was. All the more reason it would hurt to leave camp.

Michelle let her breath out. "Have you talked to Patrick about this?"

"Only a little. He just thought Sam was having a bad week. Before that, he just thought I was worrying too much."

Michelle let out a short laugh, and her smile held. "What am I going to do with you, Elena?"

Elena couldn't bring herself to smile. "You're still going to make me go home."

"Not exactly." She shook her head, her smile falling. "Camp is done for, so we're all out of a job for a little while. That gives us some flexibility."

"Can you help me with the lawsuit?"

"You should really call your mom about that."

Elena grimaced.

Michelle sighed. "Besides, Sam's parents won't file a lawsuit against you. They'll file one against me."

"Why? Because you're the director?"

"No." Michelle put a hand on hers and looked her directly in the eyes. "Because it was my fault. I pushed the bowling ball, just a little bit. Sam was in real danger. You were the only one who noticed, and you saved him."

"But you—"

"Elena. Trust me and don't argue." Michelle stood from the table. "Come on. We need to go apologize to Sam."

Elena pushed in her chair. She couldn't let Michelle take the fall from her. She was the one who had jumped at shadows, withheld information, and hurt Sam.

Michelle could move on with her life after losing Camp Universe; Elena didn't have anything else. If someone had to go to prison, it should be her.