She smiled, a sorry effort that, if it had been in a grinning competition would have come right near the bottom. The edges of her mouth twitched in a vaguely upwards direction as if they knew there was nothing to get excited about, and any attempt would be meaningless and futile. We no longer needed to be quiet, obviously. She hadn't whispered so any semblance of sneaking sneakily had snuck away. Did I feel betrayed? By my own sister? Was this a knife so deep in my heart the blade was playing hopscotch with my aorta? You might say that. Part of me said 'I told you so,' and another part of me wanted to slap the first part. Yet another piece of the jigsaw that had a picture of me and the name Sin on the box told the other two to shut up and get a grip. The others shut up and got a grip. "What's going on?" I asked. "You need to see something," Joy said. "You need to be prepared." I had never been a boy scout, and I doubted Baden-Powell had this situation in mind when he founded the movement.
