I shrugged, my heartbeat picking up.

I was scared to open my mouth, in case another operatic voice would come forth from it.

My look was clearly that one of what-the-hell?! because Cricket frowned deeply.

And then, I heard something that made my eyes widen so much I thought they were going to roll out of their sockets.

“Mama!” Tony cried, sounding distressed. “Where did you put my round harmonica?”

“Ai, Antonio, why you tell me not sooner? It was around here somewhere.”

There was silence as they shuffled about in the kitchen.

“Mama, you didn’t put it in the pie, did you?”

“Of course not, Tony!”

I’m sure I looked pale enough to rival a bed sheet. Cricket, on the other hand, looked ready to burst.

With what, I’m not sure.

“Ey, Tony!” he shouted, and the Italian man popped into the room immediately.

“What?”

“I think I know where your harmonica is,” Cricket said.

“Really? It would mean a lot – “

And then Tony’s gaze fell on me. “Uh oh.”

I only nodded meekly.