Let’s just freeze-frame that scene a moment: me, standing by the oven, staring at the jar. The ghost grinning back at me. Lockwood staring, George staring. Four sets of goggle-eyes, four mouths hanging open. Okay, the face in the jar is still the most disgusting, but for a second it was almost a tie. It was also precisely what I’d been hoping for all those long, frustrating months: my moment of vindication.
