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Allie shot out of bed at 9 o’clock. This was the big day. If their mom could just hold it together for this visit—this
overnight
visit—they’d be able to go back for some weekend stays, then home for good!

She touched the big how-to-fix-anything book that was sitting on her dresser. She’d finish it when they got back tomorrow.

Allie changed into clean clothes, then headed downstairs for breakfast. The kitchen was oddly quiet—just JoJo sitting at the table, sipping tea and reading a book.

“Good morning,” JoJo said, smiling. “Arthur and Jonathan are down the road harvesting green beans. Old Mr. Winters can’t do it on his own, anymore. His back gets too sore.”

“When do we leave? How do we get home?” Allie couldn’t hide her excitement, even though she saw the worried look creep across JoJo’s face.

“Mrs. Stone said she’d be here by 4 o’clock to pick you up.” JoJo put down her book. “The boys did most of the chores. We just need to take care of Tripod, then we can eat.” JoJo glanced at the stairs and smiled. “You can help, if you wish.”

Luke was sitting on the bottom step. He looked scruffy and sleepy, but he was already dressed in nice pants and a shirt.

Allie followed JoJo out to Tripod’s spot.

“Oh, wow.” Allie watched, as Tripod rolled onto his belly and ate right out of his dish.

“Yep, dogs bounce back fast. And he’s a tough little guy, too.”

JoJo glanced at Allie.

“We could get you braces to fix that gap, you know. Child Protective Services would pay the whole shot.”

Allie clamped her mouth shut. She’d been pushing her tongue through the hole between her front teeth. A disgusting habit.

“Braces take two years. I’m not staying here.” Allie stared at the dog so she wouldn’t have to look at JoJo. “I’ll be home before school starts. You’ll see.”

“Allie...” JoJo sighed. Neither of them spoke as JoJo opened the first aid kit and carefully pulled the gauze off Tripod’s stump. The sharp, acidic smell made Allie glad there was a breeze. “Hand me the antiseptic, please,” JoJo said.

“My mom wants me back.” Allie gave JoJo the bottle. “She was a good mom before. She can do it again. I’m not spending ninth grade on a stupid hick farm in the middle of stupid nowhere.”

Only seven weeks left until school started. Things were definitely looking up, but Allie had to keep the pressure on—had to do her “normal, but not likable” thing.

The dog whimpered.

“I’m sorry, Tripod. This won’t take long.” JoJo gently dabbed his stump with antiseptic. “Allie, you’re welcome to live on my stupid hick farm in the middle of stupid nowhere for as long as you like.”

“I’ve already
been
here longer than I’d like.” Allie knew she was being hurtful, but this was part of getting home fast. When the social workers started saying that her mom was doing better, when the home visits started getting longer, Allie had to make sure JoJo was so relieved to get rid of them that she wouldn’t put up a fight.

Allie knew this was the only way. Still, she couldn’t look JoJo in the eyes. And she was glad Jonathan wasn’t there. He’d be making some snotty comment about getting her a broom.

Allie lifted Tripod’s stump off the blanket so JoJo could wrap it in fresh gauze. “He’s had a rough time, hasn’t he?” JoJo opened a big tub of goo and smeared it all over Tripod’s scrapes and cuts. He looked like a glazed donut.

“When does he go home?” Allie asked.

JoJo frowned. “Hopefully never,” she said. “The Humane Society’s still fighting with the owner, but I doubt he’ll ever get this guy back.”

Cripes, JoJo was a bleeding heart. Foster kids. Foster pets. Get punched or kicked or ignored, and she’ll take you in and smear salve all over you. Or make you wear braces.

“You might want to check on your brother,” JoJo said, without looking up from her work.

Allie peaked over her shoulder as Luke skittered by, his pockets bulging. She sprinted after him and caught his arm, then pulled his baggiest pocket open with the other hand.

Ugh...he’d stuffed his pockets full of leftover mashed potatoes. What a mess.

“Go.” Allie gently shooed him away. If JoJo saw what he’d done, she’d start going on about how his hoarding proved that he wasn’t getting enough food at home.

Luke trotted over to the side of the barn, then started pulling gobs of mashed potatoes out of his pockets and stuffing them in his mouth.

Gravel scattered as a rusty old truck bounced up the driveway. It skidded to a stop, and a big man covered with faded tattoos stepped out. Tripod struggled to his feet, tail wagging.

“Shoot, that’s his owner,” JoJo whispered.

“See? Look at Tripod.” Allie pointed at the dog’s tail. “He wants to go home.”

JoJo stood up tall and squared her shoulders. “You’re supposed to go through the Humane Society if you want to see your pet,” she said to the man. He glared at JoJo as he kicked his truck door shut. Goose bumps popped up on Allie’s arms, and a weird tingly feeling went down the backs of her legs.

“It’s
my
dog, and I’ll see it whenever I want,” the man said, coldly.

“Get off my property, or I’m calling the police.”

The man took a step toward Tripod. “That dog’s mine. If I can’t have it,
nobody can
!”

Tripod cowered. He tried to scuttle backward, but his missing leg messed up his balance and he toppled onto his side. He struggled to get up, his eyes wide with panic as the man lunged at him.

“Leave him alone!” Allie wrapped her arms around Tripod and tried to help him up, but the dog was so greasy, it was like grabbing wet soap.

“NO!” JoJo’s voice exploded in Allie’s ears.

Allie jumped back, dragging Tripod with her. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the man’s foot swing back, then drop down to the ground. Her heart was racing as fast as Tripod’s.
Which one of us was he going to kick?

“That dog’s mine, and I’m getting it back,” the man yelled, as he climbed into his truck. He backed down the long driveway, smashing right over Jonathan’s bike without slowing down.

“Well, now we know how he
accidentally
ran over Tripod,” JoJo said, grimly. She quickly squeezed Allie’s shoulder. “I’m proud of you,” she said. “Sometimes creatures need our help. You did a good job.”

Allie spun around frantically, looking for Luke. He was pressed against the barn, his eyes wide, his cheeks bulging with mashed potatoes. He was standing completely still—the way he often did when things got really tense.

Allie hurried over and wrapped him in her arms. “It’s okay, Luke. Everything’s okay.” Luke didn’t hug back. His whole body was shaking.

“They’re not going to let that bad man take Tripod, are they?” Luke whispered. “He won’t take good care of our doggie. Oh, Allie, what do we do?”

Allie hugged Luke some more, being careful to not touch his overloaded pockets. “We don’t need to do anything. JoJo will make sure Tripod is safe. She...protects things.”

Allie glanced over at JoJo, then quickly looked away. JoJo was staring at her, holding back a smile.

“Come on. Let’s forget all about this and get ready,” Allie said to Luke. “We’re going home, soon!”

There was so much to do, the day just flew by. Breakfast. Dishes. Haircuts for the twins. Lunch. Dishes. A big bubble bath. Clean clothes. Scrubbed teeth. The twins looked amazing.

“Hmmm...” JoJo stared at Allie, as Madeleine and Luke raced off to show Arthur their new outfits. “Would you like a trim? I could give you a nice layered look and add a bit of lift to the sides.”

Allie hesitated.

“If you like the cut, it doesn’t mean you have to stay. I just thought you might want to look nice for your mom.”

“Okay.” Allie plunked herself down in a chair, and JoJo wrapped the plastic cape around her neck. “I can show you how to use a little mascara and eye shadow to bring out your eyes,” JoJo said. “They’re pretty, you know.”

“Uh, thanks.” Allie could feel her face getting hot. No one had ever said anything nice about her eyes before. They were just plain and brown. Like her hair.

Clip, clip, clip...

Madeleine and Luke snuck back into the kitchen and watched, as big hunks of Allie’s hair slid down the plastic cape and onto the floor. About 20 minutes later, JoJo stepped back and smiled.

“Okay, now jump in the tub and have a quick scrub, then I’ll show you how to dry your hair so it has lots of body.”

Allie tried to shoo Madeleine and Luke away, but they were too excited to focus on anything—even cartoons. They yakked outside the bathroom door while Allie soaked in the tub. They yakked on the stairs while she got dressed. They yakked at the table while JoJo showed Allie how to use a blow dryer and gel to get her hair to flip back in layers. They yakked while JoJo put mascara and shadow on Allie to make her eyes look big.

But when JoJo stood back to check out Allie’s new look, the twins stopped yakking. Stopped completely. They just sat there, staring.

“What? How does it look?” Allie squirmed.

JoJo smiled and swallowed hard.

Madeleine was the first to speak. “Oh, Allie, you look as pretty as Jasmine.”

“Jasmine?” Luke asked.

“From Aladdin—the princess in Aladdin, silly. Allie looks as pretty as her.”

“I think she looks as pretty as Snow White,” Luke said.

“No, Snow White had white skin. Allie’s got a tan.” Madeleine glared at her brother. “You know nothing about princesses.”

JoJo laughed. “Do you two ever stop bickering? Allie, go look in the mirror.”

Allie ran into the bathroom and stared. The ratty clumps were gone. Her hair was still thin, but it was smooth and shiny and layered. And her eyes...they looked big and, well,
brown
, now. A nice brown.

JoJo stood at the bathroom door. “What do you think?”

Before Allie could stop herself, she smiled at JoJo. A real smile.

“Thank you,” she said.

JoJo smiled back. Then tilted her head.

“You know, you look absolutely gorgeous. But if you want braces, they’re free as long as you’re a foster kid. If you wait ‘till you’re back full-time with your mom, she’ll have to cover the cost.”

Allie took a deep, shaky breath. “Thank you, but no. I need to focus on getting home, not on getting straight teeth.”

Every mile, every streetlight, every corner...every minute, they got closer and closer to home. Allie touched her hair. Again.

“Allie, what’s wrong?” Madeleine whispered. “Are you nervous?”

“No, I’m fine. I’m just excited,” Allie whispered back.

It was true. Sort of. Allie’s chest was getting tighter, and she kept having to remind herself to breathe. That was good, right? It meant she was excited about going home.

“I’m nervous, too,” Madeleine said, as she leaned up against Allie’s arm. Luke was already squished against Allie’s other side. Great. Now she couldn’t touch her hair. It felt so nice—so smooth. Allie couldn’t keep her hands off it. Now she’d have to. At least until they got out of Stone’s car.

Stone glanced in the rear view mirror, but said nothing. She was clearly ticked about taking them home. Probably figured Allie had won, or something. Which, of course, she had.

“You can take your time picking us up, tomorrow,” Allie said, just to dig it in.

“Nice try. It’s a 24-hour visit. I’m dropping you off at 5 o’clock, and I’ll be back by 5 tomorrow.”

Luke slid his head up Allie’s arm, so he could whisper in her ear. “Do you think Mommy has stopped drinking?” he asked.

Allie picked at the little flakes of skin around her nails, pulling them off to make sharp sparks of pain shoot up her fingers. It gave her something to think about other than the butterflies in her stomach. It distracted her a bit, so she could answer Luke without her voice sounding wobbly.

“I’m sure she‘s trying,” Allie whispered. “She’s trying very hard, because she loves us very much.”

“So we’ll have fun tonight, right?”

“Right,” Allie said, as she yanked off another flake of skin.

The car jolted to a stop in front of the apartment building, and Luke and Madeleine both lunged for the backpack.

“I’ll carry it, it’s heavy,” Allie said. “Walk nicely down the hall, please.”

Stone climbed out of the driver’s seat as the three kids spilled out of the back. Allie turned to her and stood up straight so she’d look bigger.

“You can stay here,” Allie said, trying to sound like the boss.

“Sorry, I can’t. I need to see with my own eyes that she’s sober before I leave you here.”

“Yeah, but you’ll split up our family without a second thought. What a saint.” Allie glared at Stone, then spun around and followed the twins inside. It was a quick walk to the apartment—they were on the main floor, on the cheap side of the building that faced the noisy street. Allie hustled the twins down the hall, trying to get to their apartment before Stone did. If Mom was drunk, Allie would have to cover for her somehow.

But Stone had long legs, and even in her wobbly high heels she was fast. By the time Allie got to the apartment door, Stone had caught up to her.

Allie knocked on the door. No way she’d let Stone see where she hid her emergency key.

When their mom threw open the door, Allie took a breath. Her first full, deep breath since they climbed into Stone’s car. Their mom’s eyes were clear, she was looking right at them and she was smiling. She was sober!

Madeleine and Luke threw themselves into her arms and she hugged them. Really hugged them. Allie couldn’t stop grinning. It was the happiest she’d felt in weeks. Everything was going to be perfect.

“Come on in, Allie. I bought pizza.”

The twins raced into the living room and threw themselves on the couch as Allie stepped through the doorway.

Stone stayed in the hall. “I’ll be back in 24 hours,” she said. “We’re not out of the woods, yet. I’ll be checking with the kids to find out—”

Without a word, their mom grabbed the door and slammed it in Stone’s face. Hard.

“Whatever,” she said, as she spun around and headed for the living room. “Stan! Bring our supper.”

The smile slid off Allie’s face. Stan—the same guy who’d been there last time—came sauntering out of the kitchen. He was carrying two enormous pizza boxes, plus a brown paper bag from the liquor store.

“Oh, don’t you worry, silly girl,” their mom said, looking at Allie. “We won’t eat any of your pizza.”

“Mom...it’s not the pizza.” Allie sank down on the lumpy couch. “Do you think maybe tonight you could, you know, not drink?”

“Look, I’ll cut down, but I’m not gonna quit, and that’s that,” her mom said. “Foster homes are a pain, but you need to suck it up. You play the game and they’ll let you come home. You know what to do.”

Stan handed Allie’s mom a glass of whiskey, then tossed the pizza boxes on the coffee table. The twins dug in.

Madeleine looked up at Allie and beamed, tomato sauce dribbling down her chin. “This is fun!” she said. Luke nodded wildly. He couldn’t speak. He’d just stuffed a huge hunk of pizza into his mouth.

“Come on, eat.” Stan shoved a slice of pizza at Allie, and she tried to take it without touching his fingers.

They sat in silence, watching an old movie. Her mom must have paid the cable bill. Allie couldn’t concentrate. All she could do was count every sip of whiskey her mom took. Count sips, and silently beg her mom to stop.

Please stop drinking...25...please stop drinking...26...please stop drinking...27...

In no time, their mom was hammered—flopped over the arm of the couch and laughing at Stan’s dumb jokes like he was actually funny. Thankfully, Madeleine and Luke were too busy picking the last of the cheese out of the pizza boxes to notice. If Allie could get them to bed before things got ugly, maybe it would be okay.

“I’m gonna get more,” Stan said, as he patted his stomach and belched.

“Please don’t,” Allie blurted out. “Please don’t drink any more, Mommy. We want to come home.”

Stan got up and staggered toward the door. “I’ll be back,” he said, his voice slurred.

“Mommy, please stop him.” Tears streamed down Allie’s face. Her mom just sat there, holding her glass and looking confused.

Allie jumped up and ran to the door, hoping to somehow stop him—hoping to make him think this through.

“Please, don’t,” she begged.

“Get out of my way,” Stan said. “This ain’t none of your business.” He picked Allie up by the shoulders and tossed her away from the door like a piece of garbage. Allie smacked into the wall and slid down to the floor. The back of her head throbbed.

“No!” The twins raced over and frantically grabbed at Allie with their greasy fingers. “Allie! Are you okay?”

Slam!

Stan had stormed out of the apartment. Allie and the twins looked at their mom.

She just sat there, hands shaking as she swallowed the last of her whiskey. “Allie, I’m sorry. I’m really trying. But you can’t cross Stan when he’s been drinking. You gotta learn.”

Allie stood up carefully, her head spinning. “Come on, guys, time for bed,” she said, in the calmest voice she could fake. “You must be sleepy after all that pizza.”

As the twins shuffled down the hall to their room, arms wrapped tightly around each other, Allie stopped and looked at her mom. “I, uh, I got my hair cut. Do you like it?”

“Yeah, you look nice.” Her mom smiled sadly, as she fumbled for a cigarette. “I’m sorry Allie. I’m really sorry.”

Allie walked down the hall to their bedroom, swallowing hard. She climbed into bed between the twins. They were pretending to be asleep, but she knew better. She could hear their raspy breathing. They were crying.

“Hey guys,” Allie whispered. They both wiggled, to show they were awake.

“Please don’t tell Stone about this,” Allie said. “I think Mom really wants to get better. I think we can fix this if we don’t tell, okay?”

“Okay,” Luke said.

Madeleine hugged Allie hard. “That was scary,” she said. “I don’t like him.”

“He’s not my favorite, either,” Allie whispered. “But you need to sleep, okay?”

**

Allie was having the weirdest dream. A dream about smoke. About coughing. About struggling to breathe. Allie twisted and turned, searching for fresh air. Suddenly, she gasped and sat up in the bed. It wasn’t a dream—she could smell smoke. Allie threw the covers off the bed, searching for the twins. They were gone!

Panic welled up inside her as she climbed out of bed and staggered into the hallway. The twins were in the apartment. They
had
to be. Allie tried to call their names, but she couldn’t. Every time she tried to take a breath, she choked. She dropped to her knees and crawled into the living room, feeling around the floor trying to find the twins. Her eyes were burning, her lungs screaming for oxygen.

Allie slid her hand along the couch, then yanked it away fast. One of the cushions was smoldering. Her mom or that stupid Stan guy must have left a cigarette burning when they went to bed.

Allie crawled around the room, searching frantically for the twins.

How could she have been such a bad sister? How could she have let this happen? She was supposed to protect them. How could she be such a failure?

Her eyes were so watery, she couldn’t see—she kept bumping into furniture, bumping into walls...

The curtains! Whenever Luke wished he was somewhere else, he’d hide behind those heavy window curtains. He’d stand there for an hour or more, daydreaming while he watched cars go by outside. Allie crawled to the window and desperately grabbed at the scratchy fabric.

“Allie!” Madeleine and Luke tumbled out, grabbing at her shirt, wrapping their arms around her neck.

Allie stood up, yanked open the sliding glass door and pushed them out onto the sidewalk. They clung to each other, coughing and wheezing.

Allie pointed to the nearest streetlight. “Wait there.” Then Allie took a deep breath, ran back into the apartment and headed straight for the couch. She grabbed the smoldering cushion, dragged it outside and threw it on the sidewalk.

As she stood outside their sliding door, watching the air slowly clear in their apartment, Allie glanced up at the smoke detector. It was dangling down from the living room ceiling, the battery slot empty.

“Batteries are expensive,” her mom always said.

As Allie stood staring into their apartment, Luke and Madeleine tiptoed to her side.

“It doesn’t look too bad, Allie,” Madeleine said, in a shaky voice. “I think we can hide this from that Stone lady. We won’t tell, okay? We’ll make you happy.”

Madeleine was right. They didn’t have to tell. The smoke was already clearing. If they left the sliding door open all day, and maybe boiled a pot of water and vanilla on the stove for a while, the place wouldn’t smell too bad by 5 o’clock. And the missing couch cushion, well, they could toss a pillow there and put a blanket over top before Stone showed up. They could cover this all up.

The twins would help, too. They were learning how to play the game. And this was where they belonged, right?

Allie looked down at the twins, clinging together as they waited for Allie to say something.

Their mom’s phone was on the coffee table. Allie stepped in, picked it up, and with shaking fingers dialed 9-1-1.

When the operator answered, Allie took a deep breath. “We need help,” she said.