“No disrespect, but your mother doesn’t know much about juju,” Orlu replied. “Trust me.”

Still, she hesitated. In the end, her curiosity got the better of her, the way it always did-especially after what she had seen in the candle flame. Quickly, before she could think too hard about it, she pressed her thumb to the same place Chichi had pressed hers. Orlu did the same. Then he took out a blade the size of his hand. Chichi hissed. “Is this necessary?” she asked, irritated.

“I want it to be strong,” he said.

“You barely know how,” Chichi said.

He ignored her and touched the knife to his tongue. He winced, but that was it. Carefully, he handed the knife to Chichi. She paused, pursing her lips. Then she did the same and handed the knife to Sunny.

“Handle it with care,” Orlu said.

“You want me to…” There was blood on the knife. Thoughts of AIDS, hepatitis, and every other disease she’d learned about in school and from her mother rushed through her head. She barely knew Chichi, or Orlu, really.

“Yeah,” he said. “But once you do it, you can’t turn back.”

“From what?”

“You won’t know unless you do it,” Chichi said with a smirk.

Sunny couldn’t take it anymore. She looked at the knife. She took a deep breath. “Okay.”

She cut with the part of the blade that was free of blood. The knife was so sharp! She barely had to touch the thing to her tongue. But, goodness, it stung! She wondered if it was coated with some kind of chemical because suddenly everything around her looked funny.

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” she heard Chichi tell Orlu.

“We’ll see,” Orlu mumbled. They both looked intently at Sunny.

“What’s happening?” she whispered.

Nothing was changing-but everything was. The room was as it was, the books, Orlu and Chichi, her schoolbag beside her. Outside she could hear a car passing by. But everything was… different. It was like reality was blossoming, opening and then opening some more. More of everything, but all was the same.