Kiersten White

To everyone who was never chosen, but who chooses themselves

Learning how to take lives beats knowing how to save them.

Why? The kids had been roused from their beds in the middle of the night with urgency. Urgency and candles. A lot of candles. Why had their parents been lighting so many candles? Then—they were here. Alexander couldn’t quite fill in the blanks. Had they taken a car? An airplane? A train? Why couldn’t he remember?

None of them asked if the water park was plagued with a series of mysterious disappearances, which would soon be much more important to them than Wi-Fi or lunch, but, in Alexander’s case, would still rank slightly below food-safety protocols.

Find what was lost,

sixteen-year-old Wilhelmina Sinister-Winterbottom (who had actually learned how to write her own name as a toddler), twelve-year-old Theodora Sinister-Winterbottom (who had never to this day written out her whole name, preferring Theo), and also twelve-year-old Alexander Sinister-Winterbottom

Theo loved water parks, and parks in general, and she was also very fond of water.

have a churro-eating contest. Last summer she’d been introduced to those delightful lengths of fried-dough-cinnamon-sugar goodness, and they tasted like happiness

“Think of the children. Think of their happiness. Their safety. Are you certain this is what you want?”
“Yeah, yeah, I got them. I’m old enough to supervise, thanks.”
Theo and Alexander realized they were grasping hands. Something about those odd lenses made what the woman was saying sound less like a caution and more like a threat.

Please sign this last will and testament.”