"Well, you don't have a fever. Maybe it's just a bad cold." Hunter's mother stated while analyzing a thermometer. Hunter only pulled the blanket closer to his chin, wishing away all of his problems. He never wanted to steal the music, hear the news story, or watch his brother get beaten up by two mysterious figures. He never wanted to lie to his parents about Jonathan's injury and tell them that he fell off his bike, and he never wanted the pain of all the deception to squeeze his stomach and kill him from the inside out.

"I feel really sick." He mumbled, realizing it was true. Every secret felt like acid bubbling up his throat while his stomach plunged to his toes. Just thinking about the sheet music in his closet made his eyes go blind, pain shooting through his spine.

"Why don't you just stay home from school today?" His mom's voice seemed distant. "I still have to go into work, but hopefully it will be gone by tomorrow."

"Mm-hm." Hunter rolled over, trying his best to ignore the stirring in his stomach. With a quick peck against his forehead, Hunter waited for the door to shut and too be left alone.

Or at least he wished he was alone.

"So, are you really sick?"

Hunter's ears just hurt at the sound of Jonathan's voice. Trying his best to ignore his brother sitting at the edge of his bed, he rolled over and shielded his face with the blanket.

"Terrible." He mumbled, worried that if he spoke too loud, a slew of vomit would spill from his lips. Everything was a churning whirlwind of hurt, from the backs of his eyelids to his feet pulsing with fire. "Why did you have to steal that thing?"

"Well, that's kinda what I do." Jonathan laughed as if he hadn't just condemned Hunter to a life of pain and suffering. "You were fine with the chocolate bars and the bouncy house. Why is this any different?"

Squeezing his eyes closed, he shook his throbbing head and tried to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach. "Because this was expensive. And valuable. And you almost died..." His voice trailed off as pain shot through his spine and into his head.

"Died?" Jonathan shot, almost angered at Hunter's concern. "A couple of nerds just cut my arm! And if you really want to know, I figured out who they were."

"Mm-hm."

"They're called the Hart twins. Got some history with the law -robbery, breaking and entering- that kind of thing. Anyway, they've got so much money, they just buy their way out of every accusation. They steal for fun; ruin stuff cause they can."

"And you know all this because..." Hunter mumbled, hardly listening to the ramble. His mind was too busy sorting through the memory of watching Jonathan fight against the twins.

"Google." He stated confidently with a slight bounce. "And I found their facebook page. They aren't very subtle."

"How do you know all of this is true then?" Hunter opened his eyes even though the light of his room made his head throb. Blinking away the pain, he focused on his brother, still small and bright compared to the crimes he committed.

"Umm, cause one of them literally stabbed me in the arm?" He laughed as he bounced on the bed, cross-legged and filled with joy. "I really hope we don't run into them on our next heist."

"Next one?!" Hunter sat straight up, panic flowing through him with his blood. His throat caught, veins burned and stomach tossed all while his mind threw every moment back at him. Jonathan had almost died, and it was his fault. He couldn't protect his brother from a lunatic with a knife, and the more Hunter let Jonathan explore his compulsion, the more he was at risk. The police were looking for them now, not to mention they were infamous thieves and the whole world seemed to know their story...Hunter couldn't protect him from the world.

"Well, yeah. I mean, this one went so well; why would we stop now?" Jonathan's bouncing had come to a halt as he peered at Hunter's pale, bloodless face, scared of every horror he had just committed. "I was thinking that after you return the music, we could go after something even bigger! Maybe some expensive jewelry!"

"I...can't." His words caught, voice tight as every fear clogged his throat. Hardly a whisper, he clung to the blanket and pleaded with burning tears. "Please...please get help. I can't."

"Is it really that bad?" Jonathan finally managed to produce a timid response. His compulsion blinded him to Hunter's pain.

Hunter forced a small nod, each movement sending burning sensations up and down his spine. Even his voice felt dry, spilling mumbled fire with each word. "I don't want to be a thief."

"Then...maybe you shouldn't be one." Jonathan contemplated as Hunter felt his skin prickle with nerves. "Maybe we should be magicians."

"You really want to stop?"

"Not exactly; just a new way to look at it." Jonathan's energy came back like a plague, his fingers twitching and tapping, legs swinging over the side of the bed. "We're not thieves. We're magicians and this...."

He sprung to his feet in a wild gesture at the closet, sending shivers down Hunter's spine. Even without the sheet music in sight, he felt the object haunting his every breath. "...this is the greatest disappearing act the world has ever seen! Priceless objects vanishing without a trace! Suddenly reappearing on the doorstep of museums and worried art collectors weeks later!"

"People will panic!" His words flowed as he painted the image, almost bouncing in the middle of the room with twitching excitement. "They'll be petrified like any good magician lets his audience be. And the magician's faces—they'll never be seen. Ghosts in the winds that haunt newspapers and vaults of gold, making things simply...disappear."

"We aren't thieves Hunter!" Jonathan spun his words like straw into gold, each grand movement only adding to the insanity Hunter knew lay beneath. "We're magicians, and our Disappearing Act is the best one the earth has ever seen."