The clock blinked 7:02 a.m. again. Same gray light on the curtains, same five kids in the same sleeping bags, same syrup on the same five plates. The pancakes tasted like wet cardboard, just like before. Pip counted on her fingers. "Guys," she whispered, "this is the fourth morning. The fourth time. We keep starting over." Mara dropped her fork. "Okay. So how do we make it stop?"

"Forget the clock," said Theo. "Something is keeping us here. Let's just leave. Open the front door and walk out before 7:02 comes back." They tiptoed down the hall in their socks. The front door was right there, with morning light glowing under it.