"You're lying."

"No we're not!"

"I think you are," said Brain. (He didn't get to be top of the class for nothing.) "You were talking about robots a few weeks ago, and Luke Skywalker, and drinking oil for lunch. You know don't you!"

"Know what?"

"What goes on here!"

"No, honest. We don't know a thing!"

Brain looked even sicker now. His face was redder and there were beads of sweat scattered all over his forehead. He gave a big sigh and flopped back in the bed.

"I tried to keep it a secret," he croaked, "I didn't want anyone to find out."

"Find out what!" we said together. This was really frustrating work.

Just then. Brain's Dad came into the room. He came over to the bed and held his son's hand.

"What's going on?" he asked, "He looks worse now than he did before you boys came to wish him well?"

"He thinks we know something, which we don't! And we don't know what he thinks we're supposed to know," I explained, "And he won't believe that we really don't know!"

"Well I think that it's probably time for you to leave," said Brain's Dad, leading the way to the door.

We followed him, meekly. We all felt terribly guilty, even though we knew we hadn't done anything. I felt like apologizing. It was a stupid thought. We were coming along the hall again, towards the front door and I was on the verge of saying sorry yet again for something I hadn't actually done – when it happened!

As we passed a door, the handle turned and it opened. That was the moment I wish I had died on the spot. It was the one second of my life I know I'll never forget. None of us would.

"Have they gone yet?"

The boy who came from the room, looking down the hall the other way, and not in our direction, was exactly the same as me. Every detail was there. He turned his head