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“I thought you said you'd be able to find it.” Austin pocketed his phone and looked at Anya.

She held her breath as his warm brown eyes stared into hers but then pushed the twitter-pated feeling aside when what he’d said entered her brain. “I can.” Anya turned to Lizzie, her best friend, exasperated that she and Austin might not believe the street had existed. “Come on, you talked to me on the phone several times while I was here and heard all of my descriptions. It's not like I'd forget, especially after everything that happened.”

Lizzie nodded, her red curls bouncing. “Yup. And you said it was like a twenty minute walk from the university, right? But in which direction?”

Anya didn't answer. How could an entire city street vanish? She turned back to the dirty canal they'd been following for the past forty minutes, trying to see something—anything. The smell of the murky water, along with the memories that accompanied that stench, made her gag. She pushed her thoughts away, focusing on the other side of the canal. Nothing popped out at her, and she growled in frustration.

The other two followed, Austin keeping up easily—he was several inches taller than Anya's five-foot ten—but Lizzie, who was super short, had to jog to stay even with the others.

Anya and her two friends had come to Ohio all the way from Seattle just so she could show them the creepy place where she'd lived for three weeks. Three entire weeks! Finding the street—one that crossed this canal—shouldn't have been so difficult, for crying out loud. Sure, she'd been really stressed during that time, studying under the only elderly man in the country who used a cello as his way to advance his powers with wind—a Music-Wind Arete, as he was called. He'd been strict, cramming in lots of new music to learn, along with giving her weird assignments. Like having her stay up late at night and listen to songs created by other musicians in her apartment building.

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