In　all　the　years　we've　lived　across　the　street　from　the　Loskis；　I've　said　about　ten　words　to

Lyta；　and　she's　said　fewer　back。　To　me　she's　scary。

So　it　wasn't　a　surprise　to　see　her　glaring　at　her　father；　but　it　was　unfortable。　Mrs。　Loski

was　keeping　a　smile　perched　on　her　face；　but　she　was

blinking　a　lot；　glancing　nervously　around　the　table。　I　looked　from　one　person　to　the　next；　too；

wondering　if　dinner　at　the　Loskis'　was　always　this

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tense。

Suddenly　Lyta　got　up　and　dashed　down　the　hall；　but　she　was　back　in　a　flash　with　a　CD　in

her　hand。　And　when　she　put　it　in　the　player；　I

recognized　one　of　my　brothers'　songs　blaring　through　the　speakers。

We'd　heard　this　song；　“Candle　Ice；”　pouring　out　of　my　brothers'　bedroom　at