"The first person will be Jon," Sarah said, with a big smile.
Downstairs in the kitchen, Jon was getting something to drink for Sarah. Why was she even there? Yes, she said she needed help for history class. But they've had tough tests for history all year. Why did she pick now to get help from him? The only reason he could come up with was that she needed to get in his house. But why would she ...
Jon's eyes went wide and he dropped the glass he was pouring a drink into. It shattered on the floor with a crash. It must have been the stone she was after. And he left her alone in his room!
"Jon! What was that?" his mom yelled, from the living room.
"Shit," Jon said. "I wish I never allowed Sarah to come in."
As Jon made his wish, Sarah saw the stone glowing. She smiled, knowing that the first "wish chain" wish was being granted. But then she blinked and saw that she was outside.
Jon's wish was granted to his mother, since she was the person who was nearest to him and reality had changed so that Sarah was never let inside.
If it weren't for Jon's mother keeping her from coming in, she'd probably have the stone right now. She'd have to get inside his house some other way. She really wanted that stone.
In the kitchen, Jon looked down at the mess he made. His mom ran into the room in a panic.
"Sorry. I accidentally dropped it," Jon said.
"What were you doing down here anyway?" she asked, getting paper towels to clean up the mess.
"I was getting a drink for Sarah."
"Sarah? How did she get in here?"
"Mom, you let her in, remember?"
"No, I didn't. I turned her away. From what you've told me about her, I would never let a girl like that in my house."
Jon was confused by his mom's different memory of things. But he was certain that it had something to do with the stone, since it had the ability to change people's memories.
"I've got to ... um ... check on something," Jon said, moving quickly past his mom and out of the room. He ran upstairs as fast as he could. He had to stop Sarah from whatever she was doing with the stone.
