Time froze as Mira’s gaze zeroed in on a boy-shaped patch of shadow in the center of her room. He looked to be only slightly shorter than she was, and he stood squarely in the center of the rag rug Nana had tied for her the year before.
She narrowed her eyes, but anything more detailed than boy-shaped swam strangely through her vision. Like she was trying to read a book underwater with the sun shining directly overhead.
“Who are you?” she squeaked, trying to calculate how fast she could get down to the kitchen. Her mom would know what to do, and even if she didn’t, at least Mira wouldn’t be alone in the craziness that was intent on intruding in her life.
The boy-shaped shadow paused as though deep in thought. “I’m really not quite sure,” he said apologetically.