I swear to god, I just saw an envelope materialize on my desk from nowhere. I blink ten times to make sure I’m not seeing things, but the letter is definitely still there. Not only that, but it’s addressed to Adaline Murphy, aka me. I hesitantly pick up the envelope and look around, wondering if I’m about to see Ashton Kutcher pop up in my window telling me I’ve been punked. Seeing no one, I open the letter. It looks like my cousin Joey’s handwriting. Odd.

Ad - watch your back. They’ve figured out you are the expert on reality hopping. I’m so sorry, but I can’t help anymore.

- Joey

Reality hopping? What in the world does that mean? I just saw Joey for lunch 20 minutes ago. Before I can attempt to make further conclusions, there’s a flash in the room and suddenly I see myself standing in front of me. But I look COOL.

“No time to chat Addy, we have to go now. Only you can help me.” She held her hand out towards me as she muttered, “And maybe 5 other Addy’s.”