Gramps shakes his head. “There it is.” He laughs, waving his arm in Mom’s direction. “Out with it, then—what do you think, I’m off my noggin just because of a little accident?”

“It was not a small thing, Ed,” Mama says, then turns to me. “Sadie, it’s really time for you to go upstairs.”

“No!” I shout. “Just stop! I’m not going to my room—you two always do that. You’re so angry about me and Gramps keeping this big secret, but that’s what you guys do all the time!”

“You lower your voice right this min—” but I interrupt her.

“You and Mama didn’t tell the truth about Gramps. I mean, why he’s really here. I’m not a baby anymore, you know.”

“So, this is all somehow my and your mother’s fault now?” Mom asks. “How do you figure that?”

“No, it’s not. I’m just saying . . . maybe if you trusted me with the truth in the first place, I wouldn’t have to keep any secrets at all!”

“What was I supposed to say?” Mom’s voice is scratchy, and I can see the tears flooding her eyes. She turns to Mama now too, like she’s asking her as well. “That Gramps has dementia? That he’s getting worse all the time? That”—her voice breaks now, and she lowers herself to the couch—“that I don’t know how to take care of him? Is that what I was supposed to tell you?”

“Katie!” Gramps scolds. “That’s applesauce—”

“No, Dad, it’s true,” she says sadly. “And the fact that you let Sadie talk you into this whole dog thing proves it—you’re not thinking clearly.”

“She didn’t talk me into it!” he shouts. “I talked her in . . . to . . .” His voice drifts off, and as he realizes what he’s saying, his face goes blank, his shoulders slope in, and I can barely hear the last word: “It.”

Gramps turns the weight of his gaze onto me now, and he opens his mouth like he’s about to speak, but it takes longer for his brain to find the words. “Why couldn’t you just stick to the plan?” he asks, his voice brittle and rough with sadness now, instead of anger.

I can’t answer him. I wish I could’ve stuck to the plan for him a little longer. “I’m sorry!” I manage to whimper as I run out of the room and up the stairs, Dewey on my heels.