"He disappeared. Poof. Gone."

"Who?"

"Lucas. We were parked at the lake, making out in the back seat of his car and--"

"Oh, Lord!" Her mother hid her face in her hands.

"Please, Mom, not now. I know I was stupid, but--"

"You mean he ran out on you?" Annabelle asked, her temper rising at the man's irresponsible behavior.

"No!" Erin snapped her lips shut. "No," she said more calmly. "He disappeared. He, ah, well, we..." She sighed. "He, you know, was finishing."

"Oh, God."

Erin ignored her mother. She leaned toward Annabelle, eyes wistful. "It was wonderful. But when he...you know...this bright, shiny, filmy radiance flashed behind him, and I screamed. Then his eyes got all wide, and he...you know. Then he disappeared." She sat up closer. "Vanished. Poof. There was a pinpoint of light flittering around like a firefly, and then it flew away."

Erin grew quiet, her gaze focused somewhere far off. Annabelle watched, a prickly feeling increasing as Erin's brow furrowed.

"It was space aliens. It must have been," Erin announced.

Annabelle fell backwards into the chair behind her. It was worse than she'd thought. Her sister was certifiable. Was there any treatment?

Erin frowned and stared at the door. "She was listening."

"Who?" Annabelle glanced around.

"Dr. Duncan. Didn't you see the door close?"

Annabelle was getting more worried by the minute. "I think looking in on you is part of her job."

"No. She's spying on me. She's one of them," Erin insisted.

"One of who?"

"The aliens. Haven't you been listening?"

"Honey," Annabelle said, taking Erin's hand, "there aren't any space aliens. Lucas didn't disappear."

"Then where is he?"

How could she tell her poor, sick sister her lover had taken a powder?

Boys never changed. And Granny had been so right. They never buy the cow if they can get the ice cream for nothing.

"I know what you think.