I slept on the plane. It was the only way to avoid the glare from Jonah’s exuberant, pulsating, lavender and turquoise aura. His brain patterns lit up electric blue. He was a storm of excitement.

When we arrived at the museum he tried to get serious, but the tinge of orange ringing his aura spoke that this aroused more in him than adrenaline. I rolled my eyes and focused on the building we were allowed to enter under scrutinous eyes. Jealousy, fear.

Jonah paused to touch a column, removing his glove and closing his eyes. His head turned as if he were listening, but I knew he was seeing something with his gift. At least he was having fun chasing robbers.

Ambassador said this was a cover up, so we should look for clues to motive. Not how he did it, but why. I walked to a window opposite the famous painting. It had a great view of the Eiffel Tower. Though from here it looked miniature, like a postcard. My breath fogged the glass. And something had been written there.

“Jonah!” I called for his hot air.