I start typing, but then I stop again because I don’t want to lie, but it doesn’t seem fair to tell Jude how sad it makes me feel that she has Robin and Lark. Especially because I really do want her to have friends in Utah. I swear I do. But now that she does, I wonder if she’s going to forget all about me. The thought of that creates a little volcano inside of me now.

JUDE: Hello? Sadie? My dad’s calling me to come downstairs. Gotta leave for tae kwon do in like 2 mins!

JUDE: you there?

JUDE: ttyl

ME: I’m really glad you made some new friends. That sounds like a really fun birthday party! I hope I can come over the summer too. I’d love to meet them.

I wait two whole minutes, but my message sits there unread.

I hear a car door close outside. Through my bedroom window, I can see that Mama and Noah just got home. Which means Mom will be home soon too. I need to finish the rest of my math homework before dinner, but as I turn back toward my desk I see the drawing I made of Dewey.

I set aside my lava feelings about Jude and her new friends, because Dewey is counting on me. I need to come up with a plan. And soon. If only there were a way to buy us some more time, or if I could at least convince the shelter that someone is looking for Dewey—that she belongs to someone.

I pick the Dewey drawing up, and I take four tacks from the little container that sits on the corner of my desk and hang my drawing on the wall where I can see it, so I can stay focused on the mission. It comes out crooked, so I have to readjust it a couple of times before it’s just right.

“Hey, dweeb, Mama told me to check to see if you finished your homework,” Noah says, standing in the doorway of my bedroom.

“Do you mind?” I snap, and spin around to face him with my hands on my hips, trying to block his view of the picture.

“Whatever,” he mumbles. He leaves the room, but then he sticks his arm back around the corner and flips my light switch on and off, over and over and over, just to be a butthead.

“Hey!” I yell.

Of course, he leaves with the light off. I walk across the room to turn my light back on and close the door. As I stand back and see the way the picture looks hanging up on the wall—like a poster—an idea strikes.