We walked up the steps to the greenstone, and Doug put the key in the lock and sniffed. “I’m gonna miss the smell of shrimp.” He opened the door and took a long glance around. “This could be my last week in New York City.”

We dragged ourselves up the stairs and opened the door to Flames’s “office.” The little bird flapped and squawked and splashed when he saw us.

“Hey, buddy! Sorry it took so long. Are you hungry?” I opened the lid of the ice chest we had set up in the bathroom and pulled out a small sandwich bag of shrimp. I reached in and held a piece in my palm. Flames squawked and waddled over. An orange glow surrounded him. Or . . .

“Hey, Arcade! Look at that! He’s ORANGE!”

I reached out to pet Flames’s feathers. Sure enough, the little guy was gaining his color!

“That’s DOPE! Wait till Zoe sees this!”

At the sound of her name, big sis walked in the bathroom. “You guys should really learn to lock a door behind you. Any knucklehead could have come in here.”

I laughed. “Yep. You’re proof.”

Zoe thumped me on the back of the head.

“Zoe, check this out! What color do you think Flames is?”

Zoe crossed her arms and tilted her head. “He’s shrimp-colored.” She held her arm next to Flames, matching his wings to a bracelet she was wearing. “A perfect match to this pink bracelet.”

Flames squawked at Zoe and pecked at the sandwich bag full of shrimp. I pulled out another piece and held it in my palm. Flames devoured it.

“You know, Arcade, he’s getting bigger. He’s going to need more food each day. I don’t think our budget can handle buying much more shrimp.”

“And I’m moving to Florida, so he won’t be able to stay here much longer,” Doug said.

Zoe’s head snapped around. “You’re moving to FLORIDA?”

“I’m moving to Florida. Unless someone can find me a way out of it.”

And for the first time, Zoe asked me a question that was the exact opposite of any she’d asked before when it came to the Triple T.

“Arcade, can your token do anything?”

I shook my head. “It’s as cold as ice.”

*  *  *

My whole family took Doug to the airport the next Thursday night. Hardly a word was spoken the entire car ride.

The loudspeaker boomed its final warning:

“Flight 623 to Miami, Florida will be boarding in thirty minutes. Any passengers not yet through the security checkpoint should make their way through now.”

Doug and I stood there, stunned. “I can’t believe this is happening.” Anger and sadness boiled up inside of me.

How am I going to get through this year without Doug?