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Meg turned and gazed out the rear windshield, probably checking for any shiny blobs pursuing us. “At least we’re not being—”“Don’t say it,” Percy warned.Meg huffed. “You don’t know what I was going to—”“You were going to say, ‘At least we’re not being followed,’” Percy said. “That’ll jinx us. Immediately we’ll notice that we are being followed. Then we’ll end up in a big battle that totals my family car and probably destroys the whole freeway. Then we’ll have to run all the way to camp.”Meg’s eyes widened. “You can tell the future?””Don’t need to.” Percy changed lanes to one that was crawling slightly less slowly. “I’ve just done this a lot.