My alarm clock is buzzing like a swarm of bees around my head. Without opening my eyes, I reach from under the warmth of my blanket and sweep my arm across the nightstand until my hand finds that stupid rectangular noise machine. I slam it until there’s silence.

Groaning, I pull the covers over my head, burying my face in my pillow.

Then my pillow moves. Wet breath on my face. Licking.

Dewey!

My eyes fly open. We are face-to-face, her head next to me on my pillow. She yawns and whines, groggily looking around my room.

Let’s stay here all day.

“I would love that, Dewey, but—”

There’s a knock on my door, and Mama sticks her head in, saying, “Sadie, you awake?”

I throw the blanket over Dewey. “I’m up, Mama.”

She starts to close the door, but looks up. I’m positive she’s staring at the giant dog-shaped lump next to me. “Are you okay?”

“I—”

Now Mom comes in. “Are you getting ready for school?”

They both stand there, watching me, waiting for an answer.

“Moms, I—” I pause, uncertain of what is going to happen. I tell Dewey, with all my brainpower, Don’t move. “I don’t feel good.”

Mama walks over to my bedside; I pull the blankets tight. She feels my forehead, then my cheeks. “Goodness, you’re warm.”

I am warm. But not because I’m sick—I have a doggy-sized furnace lying in bed right next to me.

“Well, I think I know what’s going on,” Mom says, crossing her arms. This is it. I’m caught. No way she’s buying this; she’s going to say I’m faking. She’s going to tell me to get out of bed right this instant and—

“You caught yourself a cold from running around in the rain.” She shakes her head and points her finger at me. “Let this be a lesson, Sadie. I’ll tell Gramps you’re staying home.”

Mama leans down and smooths my hair back, saying, “Feel better, honey.”

“You get lots of rest,” Mom adds, and kisses my forehead.

“Okay,” I whisper.

They leave my room and close the door, but Dewey and I stay still under the blankets for the whole forty-three minutes it takes them to finish getting ready and leave the house. When I hear cars pulling out of the driveway, I throw the covers off and go to the window.

They’re gone.

Dewey is sitting up in bed, ears twitching as she listens to the fading engines. She jumps down and does a full-body shake to get her excitement out.

We start the day with Dewey chasing her ball, running around the yard faster and freer than ever before. After I explain everything that happened with the storm last night, Gramps says he supposes she can stay in today, since it’s cold out.

“But just for today,” he adds.