Uncle Henry is a shapeshifter. He's able to change almost any part of himself, but there's one thing he's never had control over - his hair. He can only manipulate his living cells, and something about hair being dead keratin ensures he's always a redhead regardless of what form he takes.

Today is my sister's wedding. She's hired out a villa, and flown relatives in from all over the globe. But evidently my uncle has no intention of spending his weekend posing for family photographs with gorgeous Thai beaches right there. He's vanished. I don't blame him. Sis has gone full bridezilla.

"This is so typical of him," mom moans. "Go find him, would you? I'm not letting him sneak out of another family event."

It takes me a long time to scour the resort, but anything to get away from the endless love poetry readings. Then I see the girl sunning herself beside the pool. She'd found a nice secluded spot, no relatives, just a cocktail bar and a bottle of sunlotion. There's already a cluster of empty coconut-shell cocktails around her.

"Not every day you see a redheaded Asian girl."

"Never heard of hair dye, kid?" she says sulkily, too tipsy to mask her voice. She throws up her hands in surrender. "Congrats, champ, you found me. So what, you gonna drag me back to that snoozefest?"

I squirt sun lotion into my hand, massage it up her supple calf. My hand drifts up her leg. "Actually I was thinking more 'finders keepers'."