“But I need it to unlock the door,” she’d protested when Jessica calmly took it out of Melissa’s hand and placed it back into their mother’s sewing kit.

She had simply done then what she’d always done, what she did even now—ignore Melissa. It was foolish to argue with the insane, as they did not see things in a logical way. And the one time Jessica had been careless enough to try to explain to her sister why their cat Muffin did not want to eat custard, Melissa had only gotten upset and needed a sedative.

Melissa was cupping the object in her hand gingerly now, not seeming to want to hand it over to Jessica. Strangely enough, it did look like a vial.

Jessica held out a glass of pink lemonade, shaking it slightly so that the ice clinked in a tantalizing way. “Here, you go, love, have some pink lemonade. Just hand me that vial, I’ll take care of it.”

The temptation of icy cold lemonade on this hot summer’s day was too much; Melissa surrendered the small vial and skipped back to her tree with her glass.