As quietly as he possibly could, sixteen-year-old Samuel Chevalier snuck back into the house around 1 AM. His father slept soundly on the floor above, but out from the kitchen stepped Ella with an expectant look upon her face.

“Well… let’s hear it, then.” She folds her arms.

“I was… at the Dubois house. Isaac needed help, you know… with…. Potions.”

“Potions? I see.. what kind of potions was it, Sam?”

“Uh.. medicinal ones. He’s got a cold..”

Ella nods, slowly. “And where are your books?”

“I.. forgot them at his house..?”

“Oh, okay. So, I guess Patrick won’t mind if I give them a ring to make sure they’re there.” Ella takes a step toward the phone.

“No – wait!”

Bingo.

Unlike his two younger siblings, Samuel had no talents with lying.